A/N: Hope everyone is well! We've finally passed 50k words :O Beta love to FaeOrabel :)
Chapter 12: Pets, dates, and naughty things
Draco frowned into his teacup as Hagrid told Hermione the details of Weasley's arrival. The ginger fucker would be here two weeks after the start of the second term, and Draco contemplated how best to hand in his resignation. Surely McGonagall couldn't expect them to work together? What would his job here even be? Just to take care of the baby dragons?
"He offered to 'elp coach the Gryffindor Quidditch team too, since they aren't doin' so well this year," Hagrid said, glancing slightly to Draco.
That's it—he was quitting today.
Draco downed the rest of his tea and stood, "Well let's hope he can actually teach them something. Weasley is our king, right?"
Leaving the table, Draco stalked to the hall with the intent to go for a ride on his broom when he remembered he no longer owned one.
"Damn it all," he grumbled. He supposed he'd have to make an order to Quality Quidditch Supplies, which was unfortunate as it would take at least a week to arrive. Maybe he could pay a bit extra for express delivery...
"Draco!"
Turning from the Dungeon door, he whirled around to find Hermione stalking towards him. He was disappointed to see she wore regular shoes today, though he could admit she looked ravishing in her cream-coloured sweater and pale pink trousers. She was easily an entire head shorter than him without her heels, a fact he seemed to have missed from the last time he saw her in flat shoes. Though, in his defence, it was because she had levitated him by his ankles.
As she approached him, Draco nearly chuckled at the height difference. If only his mood hadn't been soured by a damned Weasley invading his school.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, reaching a hand out to grip his forearm.
Draco stepped out of her grasp, afraid that someone would see. The crestfallen look she gave him had guilt fill his chest. "I'm fine. I just realised I no longer own a broom."
"This isn't about Ron?"
Draco pinched his lips together and tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. "Why would I care about a Weasley?"
Hermione crossed her arms and, though shorter than Draco, still managed to look down her nose at him. "I know you two don't like each other. I know it's going to be difficult working together, but Ron's changed a lot since school. Being in Romania has been good for him."
Draco uncharacteristically snorted, "I'll believe Wrackspurts are real sooner than I'd believe that. I'm not even concerned about that, it's more..." he trailed off, unsure if he should air what was exactly bothering him.
It wasn't that he didn't care about Weasley coming, Draco knew that it was going to be his literal hell. But he was more concerned with what it might mean for him and Hermione, for whatever it was budding between them. Weasley's presence could ruin everything.
"What?" Hermione reached a tentative hand out, lightly touching his arm again. This time, Draco didn't have the heart to pull away.
"It's—nothing. I just know the minute that ginger-haired fuck walks through the doors, the school will turn into an absolute madhouse."
"Draco!" The reprimand caused a smirk to curl his lips as she rolled her eyes.
"What are your plans for the day?" Hermione asked, dropping her hand back to her side.
Draco tried to school his features, so he wouldn't show just how much he missed her touch. "I suppose a flight is impossible…perhaps I'll brew some potions. I do need to make some Amortentia for the sixth-years when they return."
"While I wouldn't mind a day of potion brewing," Hermione said with a smile. "What if we go shopping instead?"
"Shopping?" Draco grimaced.
"Someone might have mentioned they bought you a voucher for the Magical Menagerie..." Her smile widened as Draco's grimace deepened.
"Granger, if you think for one moment I'm purchasing a pet, I'll be convinced you're off your rocker."
Hermione laughed, "Oh, c'mon, Draco! We can glamour ourselves so no one will recognise us. Harry and I do it all the time when we go to Diagon."
Draco opened his mouth to refuse again, but Hermione cut in first. "Plus, we could make a stop to Quality Quidditch Supplies. I hear the Starsweeper Eighteen just came out."
Draco snapped and clenched his jaw shut. It would be faster than ordering one, and he supposed if he were glamoured at least no one would know it was him.
"Fine. But I'm not buying a damned pet."
"What do you think of this one? She seems sweet!" a blonde Hermione asked, peering into the nearby cage.
Draco scowled, "For the last time, I am not buying a damned Streeler."
They decided to swap features with their glamours, so Hermione's hair turned pale and straight, eyes the colour of the sky, while both of Draco's features turned her shade of brown. After a quick walk to Hogsmeade, and many curious glances from passing students at seeing two adults they didn't know, they side-longed to Diagon. They quickly ducked into the Menagerie, though Draco did put up some resistance. The only reason he was here now was with the whispered promise of a reward later.
"Oh, who do we have here?" Hermione cooed as she lifted a large black bundle from a cage on the floor.
"Put it back." Draco spat out. "There is no way in seven hells—"
"Ah! I see you've found our little Hamilton!" The shopkeeper cut in. "He's lively, that one. Very selective. Purebred Kneazles are like that; they know who their people are. Hamilton's got a bit of an attitude, so if he starts to get feisty just put him down. Nearly tore a poor kids arm apart back before school started when she tried to hold him."
Draco glanced to the Kneazle, startled to find his pure silver eyes on him. The cat-creature regarded him with a lazy blink, before jumping from Hermione's arms and onto Draco's chest.
Draco scrambled to hold the creature as it clawed to climb up his body, glad for the thick peacoat he wore, or his chest would've been scratched to hell. The black furball wound itself around his neck, paws on either end of his shoulder and long tail swishing across his arm.
What the fuck.
Draco stared incredulously at Hermione, who tried hard to hide giggles behind her hand.
"Say! Would you look at that?" the shopkeeper exclaimed, "Seems like Hamilton likes you. Were you looking for a Kneazle?"
"Well, Dra—he received a voucher from a friend for Christmas. It's listed as five pounds or smaller, but we were having a difficult time deciding what to get. He's a bit picky." Hermione smiled at the glare Draco shot her.
"Well..." the elderly man regarded the Kneazle wrapped on Draco's shoulders. "Suppose I could let him go for a voucher. Poor thing's been here nearly a year already."
Draco frowned, "Absolutely not! I do not want a Kneazle; I'd rather a Pygmy Puff before this damned thing."
A strained yowl came from the animal, his tail twitching up to smack Draco in the face. Both Hermione and the shopkeeper chuckled.
"Sorry, lad, looks like you'll be taking him whether you want to or not. Kneazles pick their wizards and witches, you know. Half-Kneazles aren't quite so picky, but purebreds—they'll wait around years until the perfect person comes along. Now, about that voucher..."
Draco scowled as he left the shop twenty minutes later, the damned cat still wrapped around his neck and lying comfortably on his shoulders. "If you think this will be a regular occurrence, cat, then you're sorely mistaken. My shoulders are not a perch."
Hermione came out a moment after, her pale blonde hair glistening in the sun. "Well, that went smoothly."
Draco turned his scowl to her. "Granger, we had to tell him who we were because of the license paperwork. We were in there for nearly half-an-hour listening to him ramble about the great Harry Fucking Potter. I was almost ready to hex my ears off."
"Don't be so melodramatic," Hermione said, rolling her eyes and reaching a hand out to pet the top of Hamilton's head. "What a beautiful creature. Will you be keeping the name?"
Draco attempted a shrug, which was challenging to do, given that his shoulders were currently weighed down. "I'm not keeping him, so I don't give a flying fuck what his name is."
Another strangled yowl left the Kneazle's mouth, directly into Draco's ear.
Hermione laughed and reached forward to grab Draco's hand. "C'mon. A quick stop to Flourish and Blotts and then we can get you your broom."
Draco made to pull away from her hand until he saw the blonde tresses and remembered they were glamoured. They could be affectionate in public, and no one would pay them any mind. The thought had him lacing their fingers together and giving a gentle squeeze, smirking at the light blush that covered Hermione's cheeks at the action.
They walked through the semi-empty streets of Diagon, making a stop at Flourish and Blotts that was anything but quick. They spent nearly an hour in there until Draco had to forcibly pull Hermione from the stacks. They received a few odd glances that had a small pit of worry settle in his stomach until he remembered the black cat lounging on his shoulders.
Finally leaving the bookstore, they made their way to Quality Quidditch Supplies, spying a few children's noses pressed to the exterior glass. He recognised two of them as second-years, so he was thankful for the glamour he and Hermione wore. He knew first-hand that it only took one questioning child to create gossip that spread like wild-fire.
They all stared at the latest model Starsweeper from where it sat shiny and new in the window, a few of the children jostling each other to get a closer look. As they entered, Draco greeted the woman behind the counter and made a quick inspection of the broom.
"How much is this?" he asked.
"Oh! That's the Starsweeper Eighteen! Fastest on the market with all the latest spells. We're selling it for three-thousand galleons, which is quite a steal if you ask me. The catalogues are trying to run up prices by selling it for nearly twice that—"
"I'll take it," Draco said, snatching the broom from the display. The children outside all stared at him in awe through the window. He scribbled a note for the woman to take to Gringotts, tapped it with his wand to sign, and passed it to the stunned woman, not even bothering to have it wrapped as he and Hermione walked out of the store.
"That is how you shop, Granger," Draco mumbled as he led them past the gawking eyes. "Quick and to the point."
Hermione walked behind him rolling her eyes, but when Draco reached out to retake her hand, she stopped and smiled.
A small fluttering of...something filled Draco's stomach at the upturn of her lips and the slight blush of her cheeks. He barely even felt the cold wind as they walked through the streets toward the Leaky Cauldron.
"How about lunch? My treat." Draco asked as they continued to their destination.
"Not at the Leaky, thank you." Hermione grimaced. "The last time I ate there, the pea soup growled at me. I'm quite alright."
"Dinner then. Tonight."
Hermione stopped walking, pulling back on his hand. "But Draco, won't the professors and students wonder? We've already taken a risk by being here together, even with the glamour."
Draco reached forward to tuck a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear, trailing his fingers lightly over her cheek and to her lips. "We'll lie and say Potter and Blaise had a party if they ask. You know those two would cover for us at the drop of a hat. And we'll go somewhere in Muggle London, so we don't need to worry about the glamours."
Hermione hesitated, and that nagging feeling in the pit of Draco's stomach that told him she would drop him returned. He knew he didn't deserve Hermione, but he wanted to. He wanted to deserve her; he wanted to be that man for her.
Fuck; he really was turning into a sap.
"Okay."
He searched her grey eyes, the feature so un-Hermione-like that it unnerved him a bit; he missed staring into those pools of honey. Cracking a small smile, he grabbed her hand again and side-longed them back to Hogwarts—Kneazle, broom, and a multitude of books in tow.
Draco paced at the Apparition point in Hogsmeade hours later, his nerves working into a frenzy. He didn't know why he was so bloody nervous. He had already skipped all the formalities that came with courting; they already slept together for Merlin's sake!
But still, the fluttering in his stomach persisted.
He glanced down to the shoes Pansy had given him to ensure the charms he placed on them held. For the hundredth time that evening, he second-guessed his attire, the black trousers and burgundy shirt fit to his body, his dark grey peacoat open to cool against the overzealous warming charm he had placed on himself. Draco didn't know why he chose this colour when he absolutely hated it, but he knew Hermione would love it, and maybe his subconscious tried to help him.
At least he looked good in it, but then again, he looked good in everything.
The crunching of snow had his attention pulled from his clothes to the witch approaching him, and his breath caught in his throat. The first thing Draco noticed was that Hermione wore the shoes he bought for her, the snakes glinting from the reflective snow. Eyes trailing up bare legs, Draco's heart sped.
Hermione wore a form-fitted dress, the hem stopping just above her knee. It was deep emerald green and looked to be made of crushed velvet. The fabric continued over her arms to create tight sleeves down to her wrists, and when she sauntered closer towards Draco, his eyes finally looked to her face. The makeup she had done created a tantalising effect, and with her hair now back to the brown curls cascading down her back, it only made Draco want to march them right back into the castle and to his bedroom.
No woman had any right to be this beautiful, and when she cracked a smile with those red-painted lips, Draco had to take a steadying breath.
He offered his arm, and she took it, wrapping her hands around it gently. The proximity of her body made something in his stomach jolt. It felt so different to how they had been earlier that day—when they had just been two ordinary people shopping together. Now, they were going on a date, and as Draco stared into Hermione's dark eyes, he realised just how much he cared for her.
He side-longed them to an alley in Muggle London, and after bracing themselves, Hermione pulled a thick beige coat from her tiny purse. Draco arched a brow as she slipped it around her shoulders, and she gave him a wry smile.
"I'm pretty sure I'd get an odd look or two if I went trapezing around in this weather without a coat. The warming charm only lasts so long anyways."
She left the front open, which Draco was glad for; he couldn't deny he would have been disappointed if she covered all of her dress.
With a smirk, he led them out of the alley and straight into the heart of a Muggle-filled street. Draco felt a small sense of panic at being swarmed by so many people, but when Hermione gave him a gentle squeeze on his arm, he relaxed. They walked past lively restaurants and stores, the bright lights reflecting off the glass fronts. It was so different from how Diagon had been earlier, the streets relatively empty; Muggle London always had a sort of entertaining demeanour.
Draco pulled Hermione towards their destination, the stark white restaurant bright against the darkened sky.
"Quo Vadis? Draco this is..." Hermione stared open-mouthed at the letters above the door.
Draco shrugged, "This was where we always came for breakfast before I left for school. I've never had their dinner, but their breakfast foods were excellent."
"Of course you did." Hermione chuckled and shook her head slightly, her pinned back curls swaying with the movement.
They walked inside, and Draco took a moment to enjoy the familiar scenery. He tried not to let the nostalgia get the best of him and pushed away the memories of his parents sitting at the squared table in the corner.
The hostess asked them their name, and he answered, muttering a wandless spell to change the names on the list before she looked it over. Confirming their reservation, she led them through white-clothed tables to a private one in the back. The familiar stained-glass windows greeted Draco with their coloured streaks of light, and he smiled at Hermione's awe-stricken face.
Once seated, the waiter came over, and Draco placed an order for their best wine while Hermione stared wide-eyed at the menu.
"Draco, it's so..."
He bit back a chuckle. "Elegant? Sophisticated?"
"Posh. One would think you're trying to impress me."
Draco gave a broad grin as he placed his head in his hand and lent forward. "Is it working?"
Hermione blushed and smiled, burying her face into the menu and mumbling something incoherent that sounded along the lines of, "maybe," and "prat."
Once the wine began to flow and dinner was ordered, they fell into comfortable conversation. They stayed on safe topics, and when food began to be brought out, it lulled into a pleasant silence.
On his second bite of steak, he nearly dropped it back to the plate when he felt Hermione's naked foot begin to trail up his leg. His gaze met her molten honey, and when she pulled her red lip between her teeth and smiled, he nearly Apparated them from the dining room.
He barely tasted his food as they finished eating in a rushed manner, and he puffed his chest a bit at the startled look on Hermione's face when he pulled out Muggle money. They quickly walked back to the alley where they arrived and side-longed with a pop, not even bothering to take that extra moment to right themselves after appearing in Hogsmeade.
Hermione's hand on his arm scorched through his clothes; his entire body felt as if jolts of lightning ran through it. The silent promise of another night in her bed had his mind reeling.
"Hold on." Hermione stopped walking and tugged on his arm, making Draco's stomach drop, thinking this is where she would tell him she was done instead.
Rather than the words, Hermione led him around the back of the castle and away from the main entrance. They approached the back wall, lower than the rest of the castle but not quite as low as the dungeons, where an odd mismatch of bricks staggered together. Hermione placed her wand against one and tapped in a rhythm, and they began to separate and reveal a passage-way.
Hermione grinned at what Draco was sure to be a stunned expression on his face, his jaw hanging limply.
"Harry would be so proud of me, but please do me a favour and don't tell him about this; he would never let me live it down."
"Don't worry, Hermione. The day I tell Potter that I followed you through a secret Hogwarts passage to your bedchamber is the day I obliviate myself."
Hermione smiled as she entered the passageway, Draco following close behind. "Who said you were invited to my bedchamber?"
"Am I mistaken? Or was your foot rubbing my leg during dinner supposed to be to scratch an itch?" He replied, reaching out to grab her hand and pull her around.
Hermione collided into his chest with a gentle gasp that was quickly swallowed by Draco's mouth. The whimper she let out as his tongue swiped her lips echoed against the stone, and Draco walked them until her back pressed against the wall. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and he let out a small sigh through his nose as she pulled the locks gently.
Their kiss turned hungry, heating the frigid air between them. Draco's hands gripped her hips tightly, the velvet of her dress soft against his fingers.
"You," he said, peppering kisses across her cheek and down her neck. "Looked absolutely ravishing tonight." He gently bit at the crook of her neck, earning a soft moan from her lips. "Shame I'll have to ruin it."
"Wait until you see what I have on underneath."
The whispered words had Draco's half-hard cock twitch with excitement. This woman would truly be the death of him.
"You're a vixen, Granger. You know that?" Draco pulled back to see a wide grin on Hermione's face and a small blush staining her cheeks.
"Don't act like you don't like it."
Pressing a swift kiss to her lips, Draco stood straight and grabbed her hand, leading her along back on their path. He wanted to be out of this tunnel as quickly as possible; he had plans to show her just how much he liked it.
As they neared the end, Hermione swapped to walk in front, and when they came to the exit, she pressed gently on the backside of the stone door. It slid open silently, and peeking her head out, she stepped into the castle, gesturing for Draco to follow. The secret passage deposited them in the West Wing, and only a short walk to Hermione's chambers.
Once the door slid shut again, Draco shook his head silently at the now seemingly sealed wall. "I don't even want to know how you know about this path."
Hermione smiled slyly, "Hogwarts has many secrets."
Draco shook his head again with a crooked smirk and followed as Hermione walked towards her rooms. Just as she rounded the corner, Hermione let out a small squeak of surprise at the person on the other side.
"N-Neville! Hello."
Draco closed his eyes and sighed, rounding the corner himself to greet his friend. "Neville."
"Draco, Hermione. Well, well, what do we have here?" Neville grinned and crossed his arms, looking between the pair of them. "Where have the two of you been all night? I was hoping to see you both at dinner."
"O-oh, well... Harry and Blaise had a small dinner party tonight that we were both invited to, so..." Hermione trailed off, glancing to Draco for help.
Draco rolled his eyes; Hermione was the absolute worst liar he had ever seen. "We were at the Potter's."
Neville's grin turned mischievous. "Really? How interesting. Seems odd they didn't mention anything to me yesterday when I stopped at the Burrow."
Hermione's eyes went wide, while Draco's narrowed.
"See, I figured I would stop in with my friends to celebrate Christmas with them, just a quick pop-in to say hello. But to my surprise, you weren't there, Hermione. And Harry and Blaise said they were leaving this morning to their vacation home for a few days. So I'm quite interested to know how a dinner party happened." Neville looked utterly pleased with himself.
Draco glared at his friend, "Fine. We went out to dinner, alright?"
"Oh, I figured as much," Neville laughed. "But it was fun to see you two squirm. Piece of advice, don't let McGonagall get wind of this or one of you is going to have to leave. Susan and I have been dating nearly a year, and the only professors that know are you two. Be discreet." With another chuckle and a mumbled, "Susan owes me ten galleons," Neville left them standing in the hall.
Hermione cleared her throat and turned towards Draco with a bright red face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Draco cut her off first.
"I understand if you would prefer we go our separate ways."
Hermione's jaw snapped shut as she looked at him with a questioning gaze. "What?"
"Neville... he's right, you know. If we're caught, one of us is going to have to resign. I don't know about you, Hermione, but I love working here." Draco tucked his hands into the pockets of his peacoat, as he gazed down at the witch.
"Draco—" Hermione started, but stopped and glanced to the ground. As her eyes flickered back up to his, there was an unmistakable fire in her honey-coloured irises. "I want you in my bed tonight."
He would be lying if he said those words hadn't eased the coil in his chest. Smiling lightly, Draco reached out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "Then lead the way."
The image of Hermione, sprawled atop her bed in nothing but black lace undies, would be locked away into his memory for eternity, right next to the sounds of her moans from last night. Her kiss-swollen lips parted as a huff of breath left between them when Draco trailed a gentle finger across a hardened nipple. Moving it further south, he left a trail of goosebumps across her skin in its wake. He fingered the edge of the lace, pulling it down over her thighs and tossing it somewhere on the floor.
"I'm so glad I went to all the trouble of wearing it," Hermione mumbled jokingly. She had barely removed her dress before Draco had all but ripped her bra from her. The panties only lasted so long because he had to disrobe too.
"If you think I don't enjoy it, then you're mistaken," Draco replied, running his hands up her legs from where he stood at the edge of the bed. When he came to her hips, he grabbed tightly and yanked her closer to the edge as he sank to his knees, her sex bared to him. "I just prefer you naked more."
Hermione's laugh turned to a strained groan as his tongue flicked gently against her clit, and Draco relished in the now familiar taste of her. He wasted no time in sliding a finger, then two, into her centre, curling them in the way that he remembered she liked. The moan he was awarded in response had him smirking against her, and he quickened the rhythm of his tongue.
This time, it only took him minutes to have her shattering against his mouth.
As his fingers pumped her through it, his lips wrapped around her clit and sucked gently, earning a sharp gasp from the witch's lips. Draco's naked cock twitched delightfully at the sounds leaving her mouth and throbbed with the need to bury itself inside of her soaked quim.
"Draco," Hermione whispered. "Wait."
Draco stopped his ministrations and looked up at her, pride swelling in his chest to see her face so wantonly flushed and eyes darkened.
"It's my turn."
Draco instantly knew what she meant, and though he desperately wanted her to, he didn't want her to force it. "You don't have to, Hermione."
"I-I want to." Her eyes flicked down, and Draco nearly groaned with anticipation.
"Okay." Pressing a gentle kiss to her clit and giving it a few more swipes with his tongue for good measure, Draco reluctantly pulled his fingers free and stood. "Would you prefer me standing or lying down?"
Hermione sat up, her perfect breasts just within reach. Unable to control himself, Draco took one in hand as Hermione thought, gently pulling on the pert nipple.
"Standing, I think," Hermione said breathlessly as she knelt off the bed, face level with his cock.
The sight nearly did Draco in before she even touched him.
As she grasped the base of his length, he let out a small hiss of pleasure. Reaching out to pull her curls from her face, Draco tangled his finger's in the locks.
When Hermione tentatively licked the tip, a jolt of pleasure shot down his spine and made his legs quiver. When she wrapped her lips around his cock, her tongue pushing on the underside, Draco restrained everything in him to keep still. All he wanted to do was thrust forward and make her swallow him whole. What was it with this witch that had him forget his fine-tuned self-control?
"Fuck, Hermione," Draco muttered as she took him further. He continued to run his fingers through her hair, his hands gently skimming her face reassuringly.
A part of his brain unlocked the memory of that first dream he had of her—when dream-Hermione had knelt in front of him in his classroom and sucked him off. Now, that dream was reality, and if he hadn't felt the definite heat of her mouth and the occasional soft scrape of her teeth, he might've pinched himself to make sure this was real.
As she began to bob her head, Draco tilted his back, sighing slightly at the feel of it. There was nothing like having his cock sucked, and the fact that it was Hermione Granger, of all people, only made it even more pleasurable. His balls tightened as she moved her hand in tandem with her mouth, his hips jolting forward slightly as she took him deeper.
Draco glanced down to watch her, the view of his cock disappearing into her mouth heightening his desire. Hermione pulled back with a pop, rubbing her hand over his cock as she caught her breath. Her honey eyes glanced up to his for a split second before going back to his length.
"Having fun?" Draco couldn't help but ask with a smirk.
Hermione smiled slightly, "This is more enjoyable than I thought it'd be."
She wasted no time in reclaiming his cock between her lips, and the snarky reply Draco had ready got caught in his throat. He could tell she was experimenting with different things, but he had no issue with it. She could try out whatever she pleased—Draco was here for her enjoyment.
All too soon, however, his locked knees began to ache with the burn of self-restraint; cock feeling as if it were about to explode at the lazy pace Hermione set. Tugging on her curls gently, Hermione glanced up at him beneath her lashes, his cock still between her lips and her cheeks hollowed with suction.
It was the sexiest thing Draco had ever seen.
Reluctantly, he inclined his head towards the bed, and Hermione pulled off his throbbing length with an arched brow.
"As much as I'm enjoying this," Draco said with a strained voice, "I don't think I can take much more."
Accepting the outstretched hand Draco offered her, Hermione smiled knowingly and stood on shaky legs, the stone floor indented into her knees.
"You weren't hurting, were you?" Draco asked upon seeing the marks.
"I was too busy to notice," she chuckled at the heated gaze he gave her, and he wrapped her in his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, then her cheek, and finally to her lips. They both sighed into the kiss, and when Draco pulled away, Hermione smiled again as she sat on the bed.
Draco settled next to her, pulling her again to his lips and cupping her face between his hands. His greedy mouth took possession of her tongue, their kiss turning rough with unspent desire.
Hermione pushed against his chest, and as she sat astride his lap, taking him fully inside her, all thoughts became inconsequential except one.
Draco knew he would never be able to feel this way with anyone else.