A/N: FYI, a little naughty scene is ahead, so proceed accordingly!
February 1999—
'I want to break up with you.'
'You're going.'
'No. I refuse. I'm not your boyfriend anymore.'
'Ah, so we're using boyfriend and girlfriend now, are we?'
'No.'
'You're going. You made a promise. Don't you have some saying about how Malfoys always keep their word?'
'What? No.'
'Whatever, you're still going. You better get some rest.'
'Fine. But I expect some major gratification from you after.'
'That depends on how nice you play tomorrow.'
'Are you saying the nicer I play tomorrow, the naughtier we play tomorrow night?'
'Godric, is that all it takes to get you to behave? A promise of sex?'
'No, but it certainly helps.'
'Goodnight, Draco. Sweet dreams.'
'They will be both sweet and imaginative, I promise you that. Goodnight.'
Hermione awoke on the thirteenth of February with a feeling of absolute dread. The day had arrived sunny, despite the midwinter chill. She was set to spend the next two days entirely with people she loved. She had every reason in the world to be happy. Except, all she could think about was her secret. She had not told anyone yet about the recent update on her parents, and worse, she just got another note from Professor McGonagall that they would be receiving more definitive news sometime on Monday. A meeting between her, the headmistress, and a specialist healer from St. Mungo's was already scheduled.
What are you doing? she admonished herself. She had thought nightly about writing to Draco and sharing this with him, but somehow, with how close they were, sharing these things was suddenly difficult. When she thought of him as a strange acquaintance-turned-confidant, she felt little obligation to care how he reacted. Now that their connection had grown, though… Hermione knew she had a lot of hard questions to ask herself, and if she were being completely honest, she missed having someone who was going to be brutally straightforward with her with no regard for her feelings. She needed to know: was she doing the right thing in pursuing this, and was she selfish for risking her parents' mental health a second time? For once, she did not have all the answers.
Regardless, it was no time to be asking herself these questions. She had to get ready and present her best face to everyone. They had a lot of plans for the day.
There was a soft knock at her door.
"Come in," Hermione whispered.
Draco entered wearing a tee and his pajama bottoms.
She rolled her eyes. "You can't change my mind about today. You're going."
He scoffed. "Please. I can hear through the damn wall that you're not out of bed yet. So, either let me in with you, or get up and get ready."
"Let you in? I know I'm dragging my feet, but sleeping in even later is no solution."
"Who said anything about sleeping?" He winked.
"NO."
"Touchy. You look tense. I promise to be very attentive—"
"We really don't have time for—"
"—with my tongue."
Hermione stared at him.
"If you're just looking for—" She cut off as Draco was shaking his head.
"I can take care of you and myself, if you'll let me."
The offer was unexpectedly tempting. Hermione bit her lip, and Draco groaned softly from across the room. She weighed her options. Would a small delay hurt? Hopefully a not-so-small explosive delay. She flipped back the covers, and Draco wasted no time in diving underneath. He slipped off her bottoms as he kissed his way down her stomach. On the way, he spent a moment pushing up her shirt and capturing each of her nipples in his mouth before continuing to trail paths down to her inner thighs, alternating kisses, licks, and tiny nips on her soft skin. When he finally dipped his tongue into her core, he slipped his growing cock out of his pants and gave himself a couple strokes. As he continued a slow pace on himself, he focused on swirling circles with his tongue around Hermione's clit. When she started to mewl, he licked down her slit and plunged his tongue into her center, then licked back up her slit to return his attention to her clit. After a few more passes like that, she was thrusting her pelvis at him eagerly and gripping her sheets. He gripped himself more firmly.
"Your tits look beautiful from this view," he said, then moved his tongue faster on her pulsing bud. "Perfect for playing with—" She moaned. "—but I don't have enough hands."
Hermione got the hint and squeezed both her breasts at once. He flicked his tongue over her clit more firmly, keeping a steady pace, and inserted one long finger into her dripping pussy. He felt his balls draw up at the sounds she was making and relaxed his pace on himself. She was far too sexy. He needed her to finish before he could turn his attention to his own release.
"Sweet Salazar, you taste like heaven. And those beautiful nipples," he coaxed.
She responded, tweaking her perfectly pink and pebbled nipples in a way that made Draco want to cum that instant. Instead, he sucked her clit into his mouth and slipped a second finger into her core. She cried out in pleasure as he moved inside her. It was nearly time. He gave every bit of attention he could to her, sliding his fingers in and out of her at just the right pace while he swirled his tongue hard and fast and sucked mercilessly at her clit. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and he somehow managed to begin pumping himself in long, firm strokes. His tip was so sensitive, he was surprised he had not yet burst. It took only a few seconds more before her walls were clamping down around his fingers and she was screaming his name. He pushed through, riding out her orgasm while he gave himself a few more quick strokes over his tip. He came in his hand with so much force that he lost track of everything. Hermione whimpered above him, and he immediately returned to giving her slow and steady swipes of his tongue along her whole core until her legs stopped trembling, and he felt her whole body relax.
Both thoroughly satisfied, he at last pulled his fingers out of her, kissed her sex one final time, and snaked his way up her body to nuzzle into her bushy mane. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, pulling him close.
But, they did have to get ready. He slipped away after a lingering kiss when she got up. He hurried to be ready for her and was waiting in the common room by the time she came down. She was glowing with a halo of curls surrounding her face, and the sun shone from her smile when their eyes met. It was shaping up to be an amazing day.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Malfoy and Hermione had spoken at the same time. Malfoy smirked at her.
"Stuff it you two," Ginny said. "Do you really want to be drinking butterbeer at this hour of the morning? Madam Puddifoot's is a little tacky, but it has coffee and tea and, most importantly, more privacy." She marched ahead, leading them to the tiny tea shop.
"Privacy?" Hermione scoffed. "Does she realize what day it is? This place is going to be packed with couples all weekend."
Malfoy groaned. "Let's get this over with."
They followed Ginny inside and were quickly seated in a tiny corner booth where Harry was already waiting. Judging by the look on his face, he was equally unhappy with the choice of venue. He was scowling at a cherub throwing confetti in his hair when Ginny jumped on him. Several awkward minutes later, Ginny released Harry, who now sported a goofy grin and crooked glasses.
"Hi," he breathed to Hermione then held out his hand to shake Malfoy's.
"Potter," Malfoy said as he took the extended hand.
A waiter came over and handed one menu to each couple. Malfoy rolled his eyes, and Hermione silently agreed with that sentiment. Did he really expect all the couples in the tea shop to huddle together to pick their beverages? Fortunately, she knew exactly how she liked her coffee and had no desire for food. Malfoy flipped through the menu with a bored look in his eyes.
"Ooh, they have petit fours," Ginny crooned.
"They have what?" asked Harry.
"Miniature cakes," Malfoy answered.
"Ah."
Silence returned, aside from the sound of tiny cherub wings fluttering about and flinging confetti at unsuspecting victims that were just walking in. The tea shop was beginning to fill up, and Madam Puddifoot stationed herself at the door and began filling the room with floating hearts as each new couple came in.
"What do you think about this tea?" Ginny asked next.
"Anything is fine with me," said Harry.
"Well, this one looks romantic, don't you think?"
"Er—"
"How is a tea romantic?" Hermione asked.
"It says it's a beautiful pink with hibiscus and strawberry in it! Do you want a pot for the table?"
"No thanks. I'm getting coffee."
"Same," said Malfoy.
They were so crammed in the tiny booth, which was better suited for two than four, that they could hardly move. Hermione wondered if Harry and Malfoy's knees were knocking together under the table. She glanced up at Malfoy. Everything about him was guarded: very little facial expression, limited eye contact, a slight distance between their bodies, and no warmth in his eyes or his tight smile. She knew that he used this front to deal with uncomfortable situations, as experienced by several instances since Ernie's little outburst.
Ginny continued to make recommendations to Harry for tea and food, all of which he agreed to. He kept glancing at Hermione as if trying to catch her eye. Hermione, herself, felt quite tense. She looked down at the menu Malfoy had abandoned for something to occupy her.
"Have you decided?" The waiter returned with a pad and pen in hand.
"Flat white, please," Hermione said immediately.
Malfoy's head whipped to her, and his harsh exterior suddenly cracked. He reached under the table to thread his fingers through hers, and when she met his eyes, they were dancing with warmth. He turned back to the waiter and said, "I'll have the same."
Harry let Ginny dictate the order for both of them. All the while, his eyes darted back and forth between her and Malfoy. When the waiter walked away, he said with a crooked grin, "So, how did you two meet?"
"Harry!" Hermione admonished while Ginny chortled loudly.
"Oh come on! People are going to start asking you that question. You may as well have an answer ready."
"We met at school," Malfoy responded, leaning his elbows on the table. "It's a funny story, actually. We didn't get on until our last year. We're both Head Students, you see, and we had to start spending a lot more time together. Something just clicked."
"Oh, that was good! Nice job, Malfoy," Ginny said with a grin.
"Yes, well, appearances were everything to my family growing up. You learn to answer uncomfortable questions. It's a weird power play for those social circles."
"And what does your family think now?" Harry asked.
Hermione cringed.
Ginny turned slowly from Harry to Malfoy with her mouth slightly agape.
Malfoy stilled. He held Harry's eye for a long moment. "Why don't you ask your real question, Potter?"
Harry's eyes steeled, and his jaw clenched. The silence fell over their table, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
"Harry, I don't think—" Hermione began.
"Yes," said Malfoy.
"Yes?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, my mother knows about Hermione. She knew before all this… Anyway, she's supportive."
"And your father?"
Draco's eyes turned dark. "He doesn't know much of anything right now."
Harry sighed as realization dripped over him. "I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me."
"It's fine."
The waiter walked up at that moment and laid down their drinks. He eyed the table. "Everything okay here?" he asked.
"Yes, thanks," said Hermione. She eyed her and Draco's identical cups as the waiter walked away. There was a heart worked into the foam on the cup. "Have you tried this before?"
"I have," Draco said, and she could hear the warmth in his voice.
"It's my favorite. It's really good with a dash of—"
"Cinnamon."
"How did you know?"
"It's my favorite, too."
Hermione beamed up at Draco. He wore one of his playful smirks, and she could not resist kissing it right off his face.
"You two are revolting," Ginny interrupted.
"You're one to talk!" Hermione exclaimed. "You had your tongue down Harry's throat for ages when we got here."
"Yes, well, I don't see my boyfriend all the time, do I?"
"Still! You're in public!"
"Ahem." Ginny waved her arms in their direction.
"One kiss!"
"One kiss and the dewy eyes you two make at each other all the time. I mean, seriously."
Hermione tried to protest, but Ginny waived the topic away. "Forget all these dumb questions. Harry, you can see, they're sickly in love." (Hermione and Draco both became intensely interested in their drinks at that word.) "Malfoy's not so bad. Hermione looks bloody amazing. Now that all that's settled, do us!"
"What?" the three others said at once.
"Ask us how we met!"
"Ohh," said Hermione. "But, you two don't have a sordid history or anything."
"It's practice for interviews. Harry gets asked to interview a lot."
Harry groaned. "Can we not? It's bad enough I have to live it, let alone practice for it."
"You're kidding," laughed Draco. "Famous Harry Potter, the Chosen One, hates to be interviewed? You seemed to like it well enough before."
"No," Hermione interjected, "he didn't. He hated it. And Rita Skeeter used to lie about everything he said anyway."
Draco nodded. "Yeah, she does that."
"Until Hermione kept her in a jar for a year!" Ginny blurted out.
"It wasn't a year!"
The genuine amusement on Draco's face was worth Hermione having to rehash stories from their fourth year. Aside from the awful cherubs, the slurping sounds from the couple seated nearest them sucking each other's faces off, and the floating hearts that randomly burst into showers of edible glitter, the rest of the morning went great.
As they left, Ginny took Harry's hand, and Hermione took Draco's. Then, the girls linked arms together and dragged their unlikely group down the road towards the sweets shop, the broom shop, and finally the Hogsmeade branch of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
Harry pulled up short. "Listen," he said, and his voice cracked. "There's something I have to tell you all. It's about Ron."
Hermione scowled.
"I know, I know, but give him a chance."
"He's here!?"
"Only to apologize! To both of you," Harry added when he saw Malfoy try to pull away. "I promise."
"You better be damn sure about this, Potter, because I can't exactly afford to be decking a member of the Golden Trio in public."
"Don't worry," Ginny said with a dangerous glint in her eye. "He pulls any shit, and I'll hex him for you."
But, to everyone's surprise, Ron approached Malfoy immediately when they entered with an outstretched hand and a sincere sounding apology. He hugged Hermione as he offered her the same. Their quartet gained an even more unlikely member, and, after they perused the shop, the five of them trudged their way back to Hogwarts.
"I can't believe you've been flying!" Ron exclaimed to Hermione. "I wish I'd brought my broom. Harry, why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't think you'd make it this far," Harry admitted. "Sorry, mate."
Ron bowed his head for a moment, then recovered. "I could probably borrow a school broom."
"That's all I fly," said Hermione.
"That's all you need," said Ginny.
Harry had brought his new model of the Firebolt from home. Ginny and Draco split off for the brooms in their dormitories. Ron and Hermione headed towards the quidditch pitch to check out school brooms. When all had been collected, they met back in the middle of the pitch and began an impromptu game of toss the quaffle. Hermione dropped out after a few minutes in favor of keeping both hands on her broomstick.
After a while, Ron said, "Come on, Harry, swap me for a bit. Let me have a go in the Firebolt."
"Fine, but I don't want to be stuck on that ancient Cleansweep all afternoon.
"Try my Nimbus. It's the new 3000 line," offered Draco.
All heads turned to him.
"But," he said dramatically, "I'll be up in the Slytherin stands, and Hermione has to fly all the way up to me, or the deal is off."
"Ooh, interesting!" said Ginny.
Their heads swiveled the other way to hear Hermione's answer.
For a long moment, she just stared at them. "Oh fine!" She rolled her eyes.
It took way more self-coaxing than Hermione wanted to admit to get herself that high in the air. She circled the pitch up to about ten feet pretty quickly, but the stands were several stories high. She kept flying in circles slowly increasing her altitude a few inches at a time. After several more minutes, or possibly hours, or years, she had made it about two-thirds of the way up.
"Almost there!" Draco called out to her from the Slytherin stands. He leaned over the railing, and she plucked up her last bit of courage to rise up to meet him. She was rewarded with a delicious kiss. She moved to maneuver herself over the railing, relieved to have a break for a while. Her hopes were quickly dashed when he blocked her way onto the stands.
"Go on down," he teased her.
Behind her, Hermione could hear Ginny and Ron whooping and cheering. Ron was doing flips with Harry's broom, and Harry was intently driving down and up again with Draco's, testing the reaction. Ginny was trailing Ron, and once he caught on, he began zooming erratically.
WHOOSH!
"Hey, watch it!" Hermione screamed. Ron had nearly clipped her ear when he wizzed past her. Ginny followed with more berth.
"Sorry, 'Mione!" She heard Ron's faint voice float back to her on the wind.
Now came the difficult part. Climbing was one thing, but figuring out how to angle down at just the right amount without falling off her broom was another. She envied Harry's natural talent in this. Very delicately, she leaned forward on her broom and forced its nose down, just like she did in her practices. She angled her circles more towards the center this time. It was easy to get lost when flying too close to the stands. Against her instincts, she glanced down to track her progress. Instantly, she wobbled. She was at least thirty feet up, maybe more, and feeling dizzy.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw the others continuing to loop and spin and dive. Harry looked like he was practicing sloth-grip rolls, and Ron was now chasing Ginny. She flew over Hermione's head and dived a few yards behind her. Hermione turned to watch her descent. Ron angled into a sharp dive above her. Someone began yelling. Draco? She turned to see his face filled with panic. His arms waved wildly.
CRACK!
The tail end of her broom whipped out from under her by an unseen force. Hermione spun erratically, end over end, trying to hold on. She gripped the broom handle and attempted to right herself, but her world turned upside-down anyway. Her fingers slipped. Air whooshed past her.
She fell.
She tried to scream, but it came out silent. The ground rushed up to meet her. In that moment, she found clarity. She was going to die. She knew the feeling well, having seen her own death before in the eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange.
For a split second, her body slowed. She waited for the impact. For the end.
Then, she jerked upward. Her shoulder exploded in pain, and a tight grip held her by the forearm. Her scar seared as claw-like fingers dug into it. A second later, her feet were on the ground, strong arms encircled her, and she saw a familiar pair of bright green eyes before the world turned black.
