We are approaching the end...I'm happy to tell you the final edits are almost done and this little tale will be completed by the end of the year.
Thanks to my lovely betas. Betawork done by etoiledelune and Photon Zero-Infinity.
As always, thanks for being here!
peace and love,
sam
Draco awoke feeling cold, which was highly abnormal these days due to his own personal heater in the form of one Hermione Granger. He blindly felt around for the edge of the blanket and was met with chilly sheets. And a distinct lack of Hermione.
He opened one eye and still couldn't see the blanket. Draco propped himself up on an elbow and opened both eyes and when he finally looked toward Hermione's side of the bed, he realised how he came to be in this state.
His witch had stolen all the blankets. She was wrapped in them as though she'd rolled herself into a perfect cocoon. He couldn't even spot her mass of curls sticking out of the top, she was burrowed in so thoroughly.
Draco chuckled and poked the mound gently. No movement or sound surfaced. So he rolled on top of the mound and began searching for an opening so he could see the little brunette menace.
A small groan protested at the disturbance, but still no witch emerged.
"Fine. You continue to be a lazy sod. I'll go get breakfast," he announced, jumping off the bed to jostle her as much as possible.
Draco wandered down to the kitchen where he found no sign that the rest of their party had woken. He fixed some tea—he'd stolen the kind Hermione liked from the common room—and a good smattering of breakfast foods. Despite his upbringing with house elves, Draco actually could cook.
He'd often disappeared into the kitchens as a child. He loved the constant display of magic and eventually a few of the elves had started teaching him tricks in the kitchen. Now that he was older and living on his own without house elves, he was glad to know basic recipes.
When he entered his room, Hermione's head had finally popped out of the blankets. No hands and arms though. Just a familiar bushy head of curls.
"I suppose this is progress. Shall I feed you your breakfast, your highness?" Draco mocked, flourishing with a little bow.
"Don't make suggestions like that. I may decide to take you up on it," she threw back at him.
Draco laughed and held a raspberry out to her. A hand made its way out of her blanket fortress, but he held it back. "I said I'd feed you."
He brought the raspberry to her lips and watched them part as he pushed it in. He pulled his hand back when her lips closed around the tip of his finger. He repeated this with the other finger food items he'd brought. Other berries. A croissant. Bacon.
Luckily, no sausage had been around, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to keep himself from making a vulgar comment.
"Are you going to feed me my omelette, too?" Hermione asked.
"Of course, however I think that could get a little messy if I use my fingers."
"And when have you ever been afraid of a little mess on your fingers?" Draco's eyes instantly shot to hers.
"Cheeky. Don't start something you can't finish," he warned.
"Oh I fully intend to finish. Care to join me?" Hermione cocked an eyebrow and smirked at him.
"Now, who are you and what have you done with my innocent girlfriend?" he teased, putting the plate on the end table.
"She's still around. But I'm feeling very needy this morning, Draco. And you've always responded better when I am a bit more direct about what I want." The blankets loosened around her and Hermione's hands reached out to grab Draco's shirt and haul him toward her.
"I'm nothing if not respectful of your wishes and desires," he whispered against her lips.
Hermione closed the tiny gap between them and kissed him deeply, intently. Her tongue traced along his mouth and he happily obliged to open for her. He leaned further over her, holding his weight on his hands as his arms caged her in.
Hermione leaned back and shifted her thighs to bracket his hips. She'd taken off the leggings—her perfect bare legs were on display.
He groaned. His hand reached down and grabbed her thigh.
"No, Nott. Just because I said I was going to shower does not mean I was inviting you!" shouted Harry, sounding as though he was moving quickly down the hall.
Hermione and Draco froze. He was hovering over her, hand still on her thigh. Her hands were tangled in his hair. Their mouths close enough to share air.
"I'd almost forgotten they were here," Hermione whispered.
"Then why say it at all?" Theo's voice echoed from the vicinity of the stairs.
Draco reached for his wand. "I can put up a silencing charm and—"
"Because I was inviting Ginny!" Harry screeched.
"Nope. That killed the mood," Draco sighed as he rolled to his side of the bed.
"Really? That ruined it for you," Hermione chuckled.
Draco turned his head to the side to glare at her. "Yes. Even the suggestion of Potter being naked at the same time as us really does take me out of the moment."
"You know? The shower is probably big enough for a full Quidditch team, there's room for everyone, Harry! Stop being selfish!" Theo's retort came from right outside their door.
"That's it. No more inviting our friends places with us," Draco groaned while Hermione used a pillow to muffle her giggles.
"We spend two hours a day with them at most from this point forward so Theo doesn't feel neglected and you remember how sane I am in comparison. The rest of the time those lunatics can occupy themselves with their depraved hobbies!" Draco shouted.
"Why is Theo so into group sex?" Hermione asked through her mirth.
"Who knows? He's an only child who wasn't hugged enough," Draco mumbled.
"Uh oh, I think you might have cock-blocked Draco," Blaise's voice sing-songed.
"Sorry, mate!" Theo yelled.
Draco armed himself with a pillow and chucked it aimlessly out the door. He then slammed it and silenced it for good measure.
"On second thought, let's get new friends. I don't like these ones anymore," he declared over Hermione's laughter.
—
Once they got back to Hogwarts, Hermione wanted to find Lavender. She'd been hearing from Luna that after successfully managing to avoid Ron, Lavender had been slowly opening up. She was doing phenomenally well according to Padma, who'd been able to see Lavender's jubilant, excited self in recent interactions.
But that was all before the article. And Hermione hadn't had a chance to talk to Lavender before her interview. She'd passed word through the girls about her response to Witch Weekly, but hadn't given details.
After her classes, Hermione skipped out on her usual library time with Draco to find Lavender. Padma had told her when to look for her in the Divination classroom, where she'd be consulting tea leaves and surrounded by pillows, scarves, and other cosy, comfortable touches of the classroom.
Hermione herself did not have fond memories of this particular classroom, but she imagined a Gryffindor finding solace with a bunch of Slytherins also seemed odd to people.
To each their own.
Hermione knocked lightly on the trapdoor serving as the door into the room before she pushed it open slowly. "Lavender? It's Hermione."
"Over here," Lavender called from a supply closet in the corner. "Sorry, just putting the crystal balls away for Professor Trelawney. She needed to go lie down."
"Another prophesied death?"
"No. One of the third years broke her glasses with a stray spell and she was stumbling around, bumping into every table," Lavender explained.
"That makes a lot of sense for her…"
"She felt pretty dizzy when she couldn't see, and I think it made it worse."
"I'm sure the dizziness had to do with her temporary blindness and not the obscene amount of incense she uses…"
Lavender pressed her lips together, hiding her smile. "Did you need something?"
Hermione took the opportunity to sink onto one of the large cushions. "I wanted to see how you were doing. After the article. Did Padma tell you I'm responding?"
Lavender took a seat across from her and nodded. "Luna did actually, but I knew. I think it's a smart move."
"Yeah…it was less than fun, though," Hermione sighed.
"I'm sure."
"But before we go down that road…how are you?"
"You don't have to do that. Check on me."
Hermione looked at Lavender. "I know I don't have to. I want to."
"Why?"
"Because." Hermione faltered while thinking of an answer. "Because I know how dark it gets in your mind. We've been through a lot. Not only you and I, but all of the people who lived through the war. The first years this year aren't even untouched by the darkness. They grew up in hiding or wondering if they'd even get to come to Hogwarts.
"Every single person in this castle is working through something. You and I have a great deal in common when it comes to what we're working through. We have Ron and…" Hermione rolled up her sleeve to reveal her scar. She looked at it and traced the letters lightly with her finger.
She glanced at Lavender's neck where the scars from Greyback's attack were. "And we have scars," Lavender finished.
"I just don't want you to fall too deep into the darkness. I know what it feels like to claw your way out," Hermione insisted.
Lavender nodded in understanding. "He's been focused on you. Even when you're gone from the castle and he knows he can't get to you. I think I was just a way to get to you, Hermione. I don't think he actually cares."
"You could be right, but I don't want you to let your guard down."
"I won't. It's been fine though. He barely looks at me when we see each other. He's avoiding everyone for the most part. Just stalks around the castle, scowling and brooding. I heard from Dean that he goes home a lot because he doesn't feel welcome."
"Well, he's not as dumb as we all thought," Hermione snarked.
Lavender snorted in response. "I'm doing okay, Hermione. I promise. I'm talking about it and I'm writing to a mind healer to work on processing everything. It's easier for me to write it out to some faceless professional."
"I'm seeing my former mind healer for an appointment soon. It's good you found something that works for you, though. Friends are a good support system but a professional is really going to be able to give you proper strategies and exercises to move forward. To process this in a healthy way."
Lavender and Hermione looked at each other, a sense of calm passing through them. When the silence had stretched on for too long, Hermione stood to leave and began walking toward the door.
"Hermione?" Lavender asked, halting Hermione's steps.
"Yes?"
"Did you tell Penelope about me? That…that we're alike?" Lavender still struggled to say the words, but Hermione understood.
"No," she assured Lavender. "I told her he'd dated another woman. That he'd hurt her, too. But I didn't give your name. I wouldn't do it without your permission and we hadn't had a chance to discuss it before I left."
"Thank you. But I think I'd like to give a comment," Lavender stated strongly. "Maybe it'll help give you credibility. Make it harder for Ron to slander you if someone else stands up against him. I'm a Pureblood, too, which still means something to some people."
"Lavender, I appreciate it but you don't have to. Not if you aren't ready."
"I want to help, Hermione. You saw what was happening and you helped me before it got too bad. I was with him for a month. You endured so much more. Let me help," she pleaded.
Hermione considered it. Obviously, it was a good strategic move. Lavender wasn't wrong. Another claim from a Pureblooded witch would certainly shift traditional people's opinions. But Lavender could barely talk to her about her experience. How was she going to handle the press?
"I don't want to push you before you're ready…"
"Please. I won't do the full interview because I know I'm not ready. But let me throw my support behind you. Let me say I was with him this year and I saw how cruel he could be, too," Lavender insisted.
She truly wanted to do this. "Why?" Hermione asked with genuine curiosity.
"For you."
Hermione shook her head. "No, Lavender. You can't do this for me. You have to do it for you."
Lavender nodded in agreement and her eyes were teary. "For me."
"For you." Hermione pulled Lavender into a hug and the other witch clung to her like a lifeline in a storm.
Hermione had been hugged a lot recently. She'd been held and comforted by people who truly cared for her. But this one felt so different. This hug felt like two kindred souls finding each other after a long, dark winter.
This hug was between two women who'd been hurt the same way. Who carried scars both visible and invisible.
This was healing. And it felt so incredibly freeing to simply…exist.
—
Draco had been feeling a little needy in the days after Hermione's interview. She had relied on him for comfort and now she was off conquering the world.
He was proud of her. Of course he was proud of her. But he missed quiet nights in the library or his head in her lap while they lounged in the common room.
He missed quiet moments when he didn't have to share her with everyone else.
But he had a plan to get her to sit still for long enough that he could soak in her touch. It involved books so he was fairly confident in its success. First, he had to find her though.
Draco had checked the common room, the usual abandoned classrooms, the library, and even—though it was unlikely—the Quidditch pitch. No sign of Hermione. He briefly wondered if she was in Gryffindor tower and thought about making the trek, but decided against it.
He was losing hope of finding her before curfew when he rounded the corner and spotted movement in the courtyard. He paused and looked closer. There she was. Sitting in a corner, reading a stack of letters.
He strolled over to her and cleared his throat. Her head immediately shot up, but her shock and panic faded quickly. And he was gifted with that small, sweet smile.
"Hi," she said quietly.
"Hi," he echoed as he sank down across from her. The letters looked personal and he didn't want to seem like he would read them over her shoulder. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
"Oh, why? Did something happen? Is it Theo? Pansy?" Her voice was becoming harried.
"No. Everything is fine. I just wanted to see you. Spend time together without everyone else's antics interrupting our peace and quiet."
"We do have very loud friends," she mused.
"Indeed."
Silence fell as they both fiddled with the objects in their hands. Draco traced the spine of the book he'd brought with him and avoided looking at her. He wanted to ask about the letters, wanted to know why she felt the need to hide away while she read them.
"Fred wrote me these," Hermione said suddenly. "During summer breaks when I went home. After he and George had left Hogwarts. There's nothing scandalous but he's been on my mind lately. I just…wanted to read them again. Try to determine what he would've said about all this. Maybe laugh a little at his dumb jokes."
"I'm glad you had someone who was good to you."
"So you're not jealous?"
"Not exactly. I'm jealous he got to know you in a way I never will. I'm jealous of the time he had with you. But am I jealous of your memories of him? Of your past relationship?" Draco paused. "No, Hermione. Like I imagine you're not exactly jealous of Pansy or Astoria.
"That's fair. I didn't know how to talk to you about him. He was a great friend to me but he was also something more for a time. And now he's gone so it all seems complicated."
"A complication in our lives? No, I'm shocked," Draco deadpanned. Hermione snorted. "You can share whatever you want with me, Hermione."
"Do you want to read them? I promise they really are…sweet," Hermione offered.
"Sure." Draco took the stack of letters, but set them in his lap. "We might as well exchange reading material."
Draco extended the book toward her and she took it gently, searching the spine for the title.
"It's a book from my own collection. A favourite book of mine actually. Most would consider it to be a book of myths and children's stories, but I find them to be relevant into adulthood," Draco explained.
"Wizard tales I assume?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, but I think you'll find this interesting." Draco opened the front cover and tapped it with his wand whispering Veritas se revēlet.
The first page revealed his handwriting in the margins and little annotations of the text he'd made over the years.
"I know how you feel about the desecration of books, but I invented this handy charm so that all my thoughts wouldn't ruin the integrity of the published work," Draco explained. "I figured you could read the book and then, if you wanted to see into my head, you could use the charm."
"Incredible. You invented it?" Hermione asked in awe.
"Well most spells are derived from a dead language like Latin. The charm actually means 'let the truth reveal itself,' so it wasn't too much of a stretch. Basically a modified Revelio." Draco was blushing, he could feel it. Impressing Hermione Granger wasn't an easy feat and he had done it with a simple charm.
"Brilliant. Utterly brilliant," Hermione murmured. Her eyes started scanning the pages and he knew he'd lose her to the words in a few moments.
"Before you get too engrossed," Draco said, using his hand to push the book to her lap. "Can we move this to a comfortable and perhaps private location?"
Hermione sighed and closed the book reluctantly. She reached for her bag but paused when Draco gave her a look.
"Why do you still try to carry your bag when I'm around? I'm just going to take it from you," Draco grumbled.
"Why do you insist on carrying my bag for me?" Hermione retorted.
"Because it's one of the only old-fashioned traditions from my upbringing I actually like. When a wizard loves a witch, he should make sure she is always comfortable and cherished. You carry a ridiculous number of things in this bag and I know it hurts your shoulder and your back. A feather-light charm would do wonders for you, by the way. But since you refuse, I carry the bag," Draco explained matter-of-factly. "It's very simple."
Hermione stared at him for a while and then a smile spread across her face. "You really are mush under this whole disinterested, posh exterior, aren't you?"
"No comment," he murmured, offering her his hand.
They walked through the castle back to Slytherin and then snuck down to what they had dubbed their room. While they still spent a few nights in their own beds or in Draco's to not raise suspicion, this was their new favourite place to be alone.
Especially after having Hermione in his home over the weekend, he was finding it difficult to not fall into a domestic pattern with her. To not curl himself around her in bed. Or grab her hand to kiss her knuckles whenever he wanted.
Hermione grabbed one of his jumpers he'd left behind to exchange her stiff uniform shirt for comfy, oversized knit. Seeing her in his clothes always did something to him and she had been slowly stealing all of his jumpers with the weather officially turning cold.
He'd buy a whole new wardrobe if nicking his clothes made her happy.
After they'd settled next to each other on the bed, Hermione resting her head on his chest and his arm slung around the front of her shoulders, they began to read.
Fred Weasley's letters to Hermione were as she described. Sweet. Caring. A little juvenile when it came to jokes. But Draco saw what she hadn't admitted.
Fred Weasley was falling in love with her. And Draco couldn't blame him.
It was there, in the evolution of his sign-off. Take care turned to Miss you, which turned finally to Yours Always.
It was a subtle evolution but it was there. Something she would have been likely to miss or chalk up to his maturing emotional state.
Hermione herself had matured a great deal during the span of these letters.
The first was dated after their second year. It's tone was entirely platonic: an older boy checking in on a girl who's had a hard year at school. It was kind; he promised to be around if she needed him.
Letters from that summer had a similar tone. Friendly.
The letters after third year became mischievous. It made sense, knowing what he did now. She'd used a time-turner for extra classes…and to save prisoners from their death sentences. Fred seemed impressed by the scheming and sneaking abilities of Hermione Granger.
He wished he had Granger's responses but perhaps those had been lost. Or were still at the Burrow, hidden away.
Fourth Year. He'd talked about how beautiful she looked at the Yule Ball. He mentioned how clever she'd been in helping Harry. He discussed at length how worried he'd been when it was discovered she'd been taken for the underwater trial.
The tone was vastly different. No longer the platonic teasing of a friend's older brother. But the care and compassion of a boy who was interested in more.
After her fifth year and through the remaining letters, it was clear things had changed. Draco guessed this is when they'd slept together. Nothing salacious was written but Fred spoke about her scars in a way only someone who'd seen them so bare could.
He expressed concern for her during the troubling wartimes, but it was the kind of protectiveness reserved for people one cherished. He told her repeatedly to stay out of trouble simply because he couldn't bear the thought of her throwing herself in front of Ron. Or Harry. He valued this witch more than his own blood. More than the Chosen One.
The letters ended abruptly. Like his life had, Draco supposed. They obviously couldn't write to each other during the thick of the war, when she was on the run.
Draco wondered if Fred had been there after Hermione was tortured in his drawing room. Had he cleaned and dressed her wounds? Held her when she cried in her sleep?
It wasn't right to be jealous of a dead man. A man who'd had no official claim over this witch to begin with. But he felt a little jealous that Fred had had so many chances to comfort her and make her feel like she belonged in this world.
Draco, admittedly, could've had those chances too. Had he not been such a pretentious, stubborn little prick. He'd let the thoughts and views of others mould him into a prejudiced twat who tore people down for the fun of it.
He could've befriended her instead of bullied her. He could've had this collection of moments—of firsts. Maybe he could've protected her.
But it was all what-ifs now.
Hermione shifted and brought his attention back to the present. "What do you think?" she asked sleepily.
"I think you were very lucky to have had him around. He cared for you," Draco answered honestly. "And I think he was very lucky to have known you. To have been trusted by you."
Hermione tilted her head back and looked up through her lashes. "I expected a jealous rage."
"I've matured past jealousy."
"Really? In a handful of days you've magically matured past it?"
"Oh yes. I'm very secure now. Enlightened, one would say."
Hermione shook her head and laughed under her breath.
"What do you think of the book?"
"I like it. It's simple but I'm enjoying seeing how your thoughts evolved. As well as your handwriting," she teased.
"Elocution classes really teach you valuable skills," he drawled.
"Like writing a fancy 'a'?" she said with a laugh.
"The fanciest."
"I should go to my bed…" Hermione trailed off, but she made no effort to move.
"Hmmm, I disagree." Draco secured his hold on her and closed his eyes.
"Draco."
"Hermione."
"It's girls' night," she protested.
"Reschedule it."
Hermione laughed and finally wriggled away to stand alongside the bed. "Nope. Pansy has been wanting to try a new face mask for weeks and she made me promise."
"But what about me?" he pouted.
"What about you?"
"How am I supposed to survive without you stealing all my covers? And what will a morning be if I'm not choking on your hair?" he asked in mock panic.
Hermione laughed at his dramatics. "Is this supposed to convince me to stay? Because you are doing a terrible job!"
Draco sighed. "Don't make me say it."
Hermione tilted her head questioningly.
"Hermione, I'm already soft enough as it is around you. Please. Give me one shred of dignity."
Now her brows were furrowed. She really didn't get it.
"I sleep better with you around. It feels…safe. Warm. I—I miss you when you're not around. So…I want you to stay. To fit perfectly into the space under my arm and…and make me feel good and whole for a bit."
"Oh, Draco." He watched her melt. Emotional vulnerability got her every time. Apparently his face looked a little too smug, because her brows furrowed in suspicion.
"Wait. Are you trying to play me so that I stay? So I face Pansy's wrath?" she accused.
"Is it working?" He smirked.
"Yes! Damn you!" They both laughed but Hermione made no move to join him back in bed.
Stubborn witch. Gods, he loved her even when she was infuriating.
"Hermione," Draco lilted. "Do you really want to go to girls' night or would you rather get back in this bed and let me give you a full body massage with complimentary orgasms?"
Hermione tapped her index finger against her chin, pretending to consider her options. "Orgasms, you say? I suppose it depends on how good Pansy's face mask is."
"I guarantee your natural glow cannot be improved by whatever new concoction Pansy found." Draco sat up and reached for her only to have her take a playful step back.
"If you catch me before I make it to the door…then I'll stay," Hermione promised, leaning back on her heels.
"Done." Draco shot off the bed.
His witch had the advantage of being closer to the door.
But he had long legs and years of athleticism.
He closed his fingertips around her jumper and tugged her off balance. Draco tackled her to the ground but rolled them so that he took the brunt of the fall. He wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her from escaping and she laughed despite the curls in her mouth.
"I win," he said, moving one hand off her waist to push her hair over her shoulders and out of her face.
"And I'm terribly disappointed to have lost," she pouted.
"I have so many ideas to cheer you up," Draco promised. He leaned up to kiss her but she pulled away with a smile on her face.
Oh, playing games again. He had to chase her tonight.
He rolled them and caught her head in his palm before it hit the floorboard. Slowly, torturously slow, he leaned toward her lips and watched her breath pick up in anticipation. Just before his lips brushed hers, he dipped to kiss her jaw.
"Draco," Hermione whined.
"Yes?"
"Don't be a tease."
"I would never," he said with mock indignation. He placed another kiss on her neck and inhaled her citrusy scent.
Hermione pushed on his shoulders and he held himself over her immediately. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. But I…can I…" Hermione trailed off, but her hands skated down his chest towards his trousers.
"What?"
"You always do things for me, I want to return the favour," she suggested.
Draco swallowed and nodded. "Only if you're sure. I don't need you to—"
"I want to. I really want to," Hermione interrupted him enthusiastically.
Draco shifted to his knees to help her off the floor. "Okay, but not on the ground. It's not very comfortable for anyone."
Hermione clung to him once they were both standing. She pushed him and walked him back toward the bed. Draco sat when his knees hit the edge of the mattress.
Draco looked her in the eyes while they were relatively close in height. She didn't look nervous at all, but exhilarated. Powerful. Full of life. He buried his fingers into her curls and pulled her to him for a deep, passionate kiss.
Hermione's hands found his thighs and she lowered herself to her knees between his spread legs. Draco flicked his fingers to set up locking and silencing charms. He was not going to be able to keep quiet.
Draco looked down at her and traced her jaw with his thumb. "Are you okay if I have my hand in your hair?"
Hermione nodded. "I'll let you know if it's too much. I'll stop or tap your leg, but I'm not breakable. Remember?"
"So you keep reminding me."
Hermione smirked at him and worked his belt open. She slowly pulled it through the loops and chucked it over her shoulder. Draco gripped the sheets in his fists when she undid his zipper and button.
"Shirt off?" he asked hoarsely. Biting her lip, she nodded and then began taking off her own clothes.
Once they were both topless, Hermione still in a lacy blue bra, Hermione worked his trousers and pants off him. She stared at his cock and licked her lips.
He was so hard for her that just the sight alone…fuck.
Hermione gently stroked him a few times and he groaned. As she lowered her mouth to him, he let one hand gently thread through her curls and hold them at the back of her head. It kept them out of her face and he got to watch her uninhibited.
The second he was engulfed by the wet heat of her mouth, his hips jerked slightly and he swore loudly. Hermione glanced up at him through her lashes and he was entirely undone.
"Fuck," he groaned. "So good."
Her tongue swirled around his shaft and his fingers flexed in her hair. She pulled off him at a torturous pace and stopped with the tip between her lips. Then she progressed back down, maintaining her speed.
It was a tease and he was thriving in this bliss.
After a few times, she pulled all the way off and he watched a trail of saliva stretch between her lips and his cock. It was dirty. Filthy. Hot.
"What happened to our roleplay, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked teasingly. Her lips were a little swollen.
"Oh don't do this to me," he whined and closed his eyes. It was hard enough not to come instantly but if she added fantasies of…Salazar help him.
"Please, Mr. Malfoy? I want to know if I'm doing well," Hermione said innocently, batting her eyelashes. Hermione kissed the tip when she leaned forward. "Teach me, please."
Draco moaned loudly when she maintained eye contact as she took him entirely in one go. He gripped her hair tighter and tugged. "Just like that, Miss Granger. Very good."
Hermione smiled as much as she could and then hollowed her cheeks in a deep sucking motion. Then she closed her eyes and went to work. Draco was mindless but he kept talking, knowing it's what turned her on.
"Such a good girl. Taking it all."
"Fucking perfect."
"Look at you…mouth full and fucking loving it."
Hermione moaned around his shaft and he saw her shifting on her knees, thighs pressing together. Her hands had remained on his thighs, gripping them tightly.
"Is this turning you on, love?" Draco panted. "Does it make you wet knowing what you do to me?"
Hermione whimpered but never stopped moving her mouth.
"You're doing so well. I think you've earned a reward. Touch yourself for me." Hermione's hand moved immediately and went over her panties, providing herself the friction she was searching for.
Hermione's moan vibrated around him and he shuddered with pleasure. His hips moved before he could stop them and he felt himself hit the back of her throat. He waited for the tap, for her to stop, but she opened her eyes to look at him and she surged forward to encourage him.
"Like that, do you?" Draco asked. "Like the idea of me using your mouth? Of being filthy?"
Hermione moaned again and her hand sped up.
"Tell me to stop, Hermione." But she didn't. She took him deep and swallowed, squeezing around him. Draco lost all restraint and bucked his hips. His grip in her hair shifted so he could guide her over him. He let himself have a few deep thrusts and he only heard her gag twice.
His pace was faltering and he was so close. Hermione was flushed and she had drool on her chin and lips.
"I'm close," he croaked. "Do you want—" His question was cut off when Hermione gripped his thigh and nodded subtly.
He felt the build and tried to warn her but it came on too quickly. Draco spilled himself down her throat and felt her swallow a few times as he thrust shallowly.
In another shocking move, Hermione pulled away and then opened her mouth slightly to show him the last remnants of his come on her tongue, until she visibly swallowed it.
"That is so sexy…" he whispered, almost entirely spent.
Hermione smirked and then rose to stand between his knees. Draco's hands gently settled on her hips and he rubbed circles into the bare skin of her stomach. Her arms rested on his shoulders and she clasped her hands behind him.
He stared at her in awe. Hermione had these moments with him where she was so in control. So fearless. They were happening often now, but seeing her have such agency of her body like this made him so proud to know her. Feel so lucky to bear witness to her coming back to herself.
She leaned forward to capture his lips and he realised he still had work to do. Draco manoeuvred her legs on either side of him so she straddled him on the mattress. He knew instantly she hadn't finished when she rocked her hips against him and sighed into his mouth.
His witch was still on the edge and he needed to return the favour. Draco shifted them back and laid down on the mattress. He hitched his finger under the strip of fabric between her legs and pulled them down her thighs.
"How much do you like these?" he asked, looking into her blown pupils.
"They're part of a set but…I'm not—" The rest of her sentence ended when he snapped the thin elastic on her hips. He chucked the ruined panties to a corner of the room.
"Grab the headboard," he commanded when he broke their kiss.
Hermione quickly obeyed, though she had to shift to her knees to reach. A perfect position for Draco to slide down under her body, her skirt and bra still on only fueled this little fantasy even more. Once he was under, he pulled on her hips.
She resisted.
"Sit, Hermione."
"But—"
"Sit. Down."
Then she lowered herself, but was still hovering. Draco threw an elbow into her knee, shifting it so she finally sat fully on his face.
Draco was aggressive, considering she was already so close. He found her clit easily and sucked hard. His hands migrated around to grip her arse and spread her cheeks, causing Hermione to moan loudly. He heard the headboard creak as she arched her back.
She began to grind her hips and he was in fucking heaven. A gorgeous witch riding his face and being so vocal about her enjoyment.
Hermione had quite the vocabulary but when she was in the throes of pleasure, she was reduced to moans and little screams between pleads of "yes," "more," and "right there."
Draco didn't want to push her too far, but it was clear she was struggling to fall over the edge. He pressed a finger right over her back entrance and he heard her gasp. He put pressure there without penetrating and he felt Hermione stiffen as she came. She coated his lips and chin…it was spectacular.
He moved his hands to wrap them around her thighs and hold her while she shook with the aftershocks. Hermione swung off of him and collapsed on the bed; she put her hands between her thighs and clamped them together, still grinding her hips slightly.
"You alright?" Draco asked.
Hermione nodded and closed her eyes. "I've never come that hard before, it's a lot to come down from."
Draco sat up and encouraged Hermione to lay on her stomach. Then he began to rub her arms, legs, and every other muscle. Hermione melted into the mattress and sighed.
"I did promise you a full-body massage," Draco whispered as he placed a kiss to her spine.
"I love that you always keep your promises," she responded dreamily.
Draco stilled. That should be something she'd always had. But by nature of the life she'd lived, she'd become used to people breaking promises. Letting her down. Or maybe she'd had to break one too many promises herself.
It felt like every time he let himself forget, maybe he was helping her forget her past, too. Then she'd say something like this and he'd realised no matter what he did, it would always be temporary. She'd carry it with her for the rest of her life.
But he could try to make it better. Easier to carry.
"Promises to you are important to me," Draco said seriously. "Even the dumb ones like a full-body massage or not dog-earring your book pages."
Hermione chuckled softly, folding her hands under her head. "Thank you, for saying sweet things without an agenda. I love you, Draco."
Draco settled himself next to her and ran his hand down the bumps of her spine. "I love you, too."
They lay in silence for a while and Draco thought she'd drifted off to sleep. Then she stirred and dragged herself from the bed, crawling over him to grab her top from the floor.
"Where are you going?" he whined while she dressed and rifled through the drawers of spare clothes they'd both brought for a new pair of knickers.
"Girls' night," she said with a wink. "Now I get to have both."
Hermione seemed to know better than to risk coming close to the bed to kiss him goodbye. She blew him a kiss and then dismantled his charms efficiently before going out the door.
Draco huffed and fell back against the pillows. It seemed they would be spending a night apart after all.
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