A/N: This is fluffy PWP because I needed some sweetness in my life! Unbeta'd. Written for the Hermione Granger Mythical Creatures Fest. Prompt: Fey/Fae/Fairy

Slipping out of the castle, Hermione trekked down to the forest. The chill of the shadowed interior was a relief to her flushed skin as she crossed over into the woods. She pushed the hood of her cloak back as she stepped into the darkness, allowing the soft wind to ruffle her curls.

Tilting her head back and closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath and slowly released it.

Once. Twice. Three times.

When she was done, the Hippogriffs tap dancing in her belly had calmed a bit.

Steady on.

Tonight she would go through her transition. The Fae blood in her veins mixing with her magic created a perfect storm with enough power to cause ripples far into the future. If she didn't come together with another witch or wizard tonight, she could be risking making her future children squibs.

When a witch or wizard gifted with Fae ancestry came of age, the core of their magic became unsteady, unreliable, wild. The only way to stabilize it was through intercourse on the night they fully transitioned.

The stress of being on the run and hunting for Horcruxes when she 'd turned seventeen had delayed her change until now, when she was freshly nineteen.

Opening her eyes, she looked around. She'd said to meet her at a quarter to midnight. Where was he?

The longer she waited, the more agitated she became, unable to keep her fingers from fiddling with the clasp of her cloak. Had he decided it wasn't worth it? Would he even come at all?

Ten minutes later, her companion was still nowhere to be found, and she was tired of waiting. Snatching up her basket, she started to stomp deeper into the forest. If he wouldn't come to help her, then she'd just do it on her own. It would be… unpleasant, to say the least, but she'd do it.

"Going somewhere?"

The low voice sent a shiver dancing up her spine. She stopped, turning slowly back to the small clearing she'd been standing in moments ago.

"I wasn't sure you'd show."

A tall figure pulled away from the sturdy trunk of an ancient oak, materialising into the form of a wizard.

"And let you go through your transition alone? Absolutely not."

His emphatic words snuck under her defenses into the soft, vulnerable underside of her heart. They'd only been seeing each other seriously for a few weeks, and the path to get where they now were was rocky, to say the least. They had a lot to work through. They still did.

But she liked him. A lot. More than she was ready to admit. He challenged her, pushed her to do better, be better, and she hoped she did the same for him.

As much as she was trying to stay strong for now, keeping herself from getting attached so soon, their rapid connection had surprised them both, and it was hard to resist letting go into that feeling of rightness, like sinking into a hot bath.

When she said nothing because she had no clue how to respond without giving her feelings away, she was sure she could hear the sound of his eyes rolling before he said, "Come," and turned on his heel to move deeper into the forest in the opposite direction she'd been headed just moments before.

The arrogant confidence that he would be obeyed in his tone both made her bristle and sent a bit of warmth through her veins that made her limbs feel a little melted.

When they came to a clearing, she smiled at the sight before her: a small tent was pitched. The fabric draping the entrance had been pulled aside, and inside she could see twinkling fairy lights.

As she walked in, a quiet gasp caught in her throat; it was beautiful.

The fairy lights lent everything a soft glow; it was all very romantic. The carpet beneath her shoes looked absolutely lush and the large bed set up in the corner was luxurious. She stepped forward, hand brushing over the fine stitching of the duvet, the fabric cool and smooth beneath her fingertips.

"You did all this for me?" she said quietly, looking back at him over her shoulder.

His hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he shrugged. "It's nothing." A soft blush turned the tips of his ears pink and it was adorably endearing to see him flushed and nervous. Letting his arm fall back to his side, he straightened his shoulders and returned to his confident, snarky self. "Would you rather we do it in the woods? You'd be picking pine needles out of your mane for weeks."

She let out a small laugh as she walked to him, wanting to wrap her arms around him but settling for a hand on his chest instead. "It's wonderful. Thank you." His palm covered the back of her hand, and they stood there for a moment, breathing in time with each other.

Just as she started to step away, the warmth of his arm banding across her lower back made her eyes flutter closed as she breathed out a wispy sigh, and then he was kissing her, his mouth impossibly soft against hers. His other hand came up to cradle the back of her neck, holding her with such tenderness she could have wept.

His mouth left hers to venture over her jaw and down her neck, sucking little love bites into her skin then soothing the sting with his tongue.

In preparation, she'd put on a silky dress with laces up the back that made her feel pretty and sensual. It wasn't anything fancy, but this moment was a defining one for those with Fae blood, and she wanted to honor it as best she could.

There was also the fact that they hadn't had sex yet—waiting for this night—and she wanted to make it special for her and him.

She was pleased with her decision when Draco undid the clasp of her cloak, setting it on the back of an overstuffed armchair opposite the bed. When his eyes returned to her form, he drank her in, heat flaring in his gaze and further warming her from the inside out.

"Beautiful." His voice was so low it was nearly a growl, the pure need in it bringing chill bumps to her arms.

Reaching behind her, she began to undo her laces when he stopped her, stepping forward and catching her wrist. "Let me."

With a nod, she turned around, pulling her thick mass of hair over one shoulder and baring the back of her neck.

Slowly but deftly his long fingers unlaced her, and her dress slipped down her shoulders, stopped from falling when she caught the top of it, holding it over her chest.

Large hands on her shoulders turned her back around, and he just stood there staring at her for a moment, thumb running over her collarbone. His hands reached for her wrists, gently pulling her fingers free of the fabric she was clutching, pausing when she tightened her grip reflexively.

He spoke quietly, one corner of his mouth tipped up in a soft, reassuring smile as he loosened his hold on her.

"Only if you want." Just as he started to release her and step back, she found her courage, letting the dress slide down her body until it fell in a satiny heap at her feet.

Surprise registered on his face when the lacy undergarments she wore were revealed. Ginny had convinced her to purchase a few sets from an owl-order store that specialized in lingerie.

She'd bought them for herself and how they made her feel, but the appreciation radiating from him was a nice bonus.

Using his grip on her wrists, she pulled him closer, guiding his hand to her hip to the smooth skin there decorated with tiny, overlapping ribbons.

"Fuck." It was barely a whisper, just a soft exhalation of warm air against her forehead, said more to himself than her.

It brought a slow smile to her lips. She liked that she could render him speechless, liked the way his eyes darkened and went a little hazy with desire.

The heat that had been plaguing her body for several days increased until it was almost unbearable.

She needed him. Now.

"Please, I—" The words stuck in her dry throat, but he understood, cradling her head with both hands and pressing his lips to hers, devouring her mouth with tender hunger until he was all she could see, think, feel.

She'd never been kissed like this, like she was the only thing that mattered. It was a heady feeling.

She was burning up, and she melted into him, needing him to cool the fire with his touch.

His hands slid to her hips, tugging up in a bid for her to wrap her legs around his waist. When she did, he boosted her up with one arm under her ass, turning and walking to the bed as steadily as he could with her clinging to him like a tick.

As he deposited her on the bed, it forced them to part, and she heard herself whine in protest, amazed that such a needy sound had come from her so soon.

She watched as he took off his robes and shoes, pulling his belt free from the loops and dropping it to the ground with a soft thunk against the thick carpet. She followed his hands, tracking his movements as he began to free the line of buttons marching down his shirt, walking to her infuriatingly slowly, a mischievous glint in his eye. He stopped at the foot of the bed, gaze ensnaring hers as he shrugged out of his shirt.

The thin material of his undershirt left little to the imagination, and she nearly keened with her sudden and intense desire to feel his body against hers. They'd barely started and yet she was already enjoying this leaps and bounds more than any of her other, lackluster sexual experiences, She sat up, hands reaching for him. A self satisfied smirk curled his mouth.

"Patience, Granger." Instead of coming down over her as she'd hoped and expected, layering his body on top of hers, his hands reached behind her calves to tug her forward until her bum was just barely resting at the foot of the bed. He stood there staring down at her, and she could feel his desire in the air as she lay there pinned beneath his gaze.

Reaching out, he traced his index finger up her thigh, trailing from one hip bone to the other before slipping his fingertip beneath the lace trim of her knickers.

"Touch me. Please."

"I am touching you." He was using his whole hand now, sliding ever so slowly up her side and over her ribcage until he could just barely graze the underside of her breast with his thumb. "Is this not enough for you?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she'd planned to say melted away when he caught her nipple between his thumb and index finger and pinched, not too hard, just enough to drive her higher, making her crave even more.

It went on for ages, the only sounds in the tent her moans and demands for more. He finally gave it to her, dropping to his knees and slowly kissing up the inside of her thigh.

"Wait. This doesn't work for me and I'd rather just skip it."

"No one has ever made you come this way?"

She shook her head. "I've never been able to. It's fine; I don't care."

The hint of a smirk appeared on his face, a sly look in his eye. "Let me try."

Regarding him for a moment, she pondered what he was asking.

"Okay, but promise me you won't be mad if it doesn't work."

His brows knit together as he spoke, voice low. "Someone got angry with you because they were too inept to give you an orgasm?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it seems ridiculous."

"It is ridiculous," he said emphatically. "It was Weasley, wasn't it?"

The hot burn of a blush spread on her cheeks, and she looked away, refusing to confirm or deny, but her aloofness didn't work.

"Knew it," he mumbled under his breath. "Granger."

She fixed her eyes on a faded spot in the tent wall.

"Granger? Hey, come here."

Gentle fingers under her chin brought his gaze back to hers. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. You've just been with all the wrong wizards."

His words tugged at her heart as he implied that she was finally with the right wizard.

"At least let me try. If you hate it, we'll stop. Just say the word."

She opened her mouth, ready to argue, but stopped herself, realising she was protesting for no good reason.

No one had ever cared about her pleasure before, not like this. Not enough to do something that was just for her.

It was kind of sweet. She really didn't think it would work, but she'd let him try. The determination hiding behind the fog of lust in his eyes made her shiver.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

He started with the softest of touches, barely brushing his fingertips over her skin, getting closer and closer the center of her need. His thumbs gently parted her folds, and he whispered, "Perfect," as he looked at her so intimately, before dipping one finger into her entrance, gathering the moisture there and moving up, swirling the pad of his thumb over her clit with light pressure. It felt good, urging her to shift her hips in an attempt to get more friction. He played with her clit for a while until she was so ready for more she was willing to beg.

Sliding one finger into her, he slowly pushed in and out, setting up a rhythm she could meet with her hips. With one large hand wrapped around her thigh, he added a second finger, and the extra stretch was so delicious her eyelids fluttered close. When she finally opened her eyes, he was still moving between her legs, gaze staring up at her intently, watching her reactions.

When her fingers tangled in his soft hair, just holding him, he smiled and lowered his mouth to her pussy, kissing and sucking her flesh in ways she'd never felt before. It sent tingles up her spine, and heat coiled in her belly, winding tighter and tighter with every touch of his lips and tongue and fingers.

Her orgasm was right there, so close as he pushed her higher and higher to that elusive precipice of pleasure until she tumbled off it with a muffled scream, biting down so hard on her lip that she tasted copper. Her toes curled, all the muscles in her lower body tightening and then releasing until she was limp, lying there trying to catch her breath.

Her hand still rested in his hair, and she stroked it gently, brushing it away from his forehead.

Swiping the back of his hand over his mouth, he made his way up her body, peppering kisses over her skin, up her chest and neck, pressing a kiss to the each corner of her mouth.

"That was…. Wow."

He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at her with a pleased grin. "Good?"

That's an understatement.

She'd had sex before, and it had been fine, and she'd thought that was just how it went; it was statistically proven that women tended to have a harder time reaching orgasm, especially during solely penetravitive sex, so she'd always just finished herself off after and not had a second thought about it.

But now… Now a whole world of possibilities had opened; it wasn't her fault. She wasn't broken or defective or any other number of things she'd been called by former lovers, including Ron.

"Yeah. Really good." She couldn't help the smile that tilted her lips.

They stayed like that for a moment, Hermione counting the seconds that passed by the beat of his heart pressed against her chest.

Her rush of release and all the time he'd spent lavishing her with touch had made the insistent heat ebb just a bit, but it was already starting to come back, sharper this time, and she knew she couldn't wait another minute to have him inside of her, to be one with him.

"Take me, please. I need you." Her voice was wispy, but she poured every ounce of her desire for him into her words, and his eyes visibly darkened, pupils blown wide as he nodded.

Finally.