Thank you for reading until the end. Mature content ahead.
Hermione woke up to the notes of a Christmas carol. She groaned in frustration. Draco must have tucked her in because she didn't remember going into her bedroom.
The whole house smelled like gingerbread and sap. She curled her nose as she walked into the kitchen.
Draco was standing there, still shirtless, with a smirk on his face. The table was topped with a Christmas feast to rival Hogwarts', or better still, Molly's. A giant turkey served as a centrepiece, surrounded by plates full of stuffing, mashed potatoes, pots overflowing with gravy, cranberry sauce, and platters of vegetables such as carrots, turnip, parsnips. For dessert, he had baked pumpkin pie and cooked raisin pudding.
Hermione's eyebrow shot up to her hairline in a silent question. Draco grinned and nonchalantly said, "This is nothing. Have a look at the sitting room."
"Are you barmy?" she spat out when her feet finally took her to what used to be a warm and cosy room.
Draco had used magic to create the ultimate winter wonderland. The parlour was no more. It had been transfigured into a rather large, enchanted winter scenery. The walls had become tall snow banks, decorated with all sorts of sweets that were sprinkled in whimsical fashion; there were Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Crystalized Pineapple, Acid Pops, Fudge Flies, Glacial Snow Flakes, and Liquorice Wands. It looked like Draco had sacked Honeydukes.
Dancing among each other, six magical snowmen with green and silver scarves were singing Christmas carols - that's where the music that had woken Hermione had come from.
A dollhouse, shaped like a beautiful ice castle in a corner of the room, was inhabited by a bunch of gnomes. The creatures were playing with snowballs, enacting a siege to a fortress - Hermione couldn't contain a chuckle, thinking of the Weasleys hunting for gnomes in their backyard.
An enormous Christmas tree stood in the centre, decorated with silver ornaments; all around it extended a skating rink, that was itself surrounded by a fence of peppermint sticks that swayed at the rhythm of the snowmen's beat.
Closer to the door, there was a hot chocolate fountain made of ice, the structure had been charmed not to melt at the contact with the warm liquid. The fireplace was still roaring and heating the room, but the snow wouldn't melt. And it was definitely snow since the damned flakes were falling from an enchanted ceiling, similar to the one in the Great Hall, and hitting Hermione's cheeks.
"Today is Christmas Eve, and I won't spend it without having a tree set up. I always decorated the tree with my mother as a kid. I just love Christmas and all the sweets that come along, seasonal and not," he snickered while he summoned his pullover.
"How d-did you-" she stuttered.
Draco chuckled. "My apothecary is close to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. They have a magical box that is called A Wisleycle Christmas, and I purchased it before coming here. I thought about setting it up in my flat, but…" he finished with a shrug. Hermione was so impressed that George had reopened the store and created all of those amazing charms in one single product. Nostalgia tugged at her heart, but she quickly remembered the grief of losing Fred, and frowned.
Draco's gaze had been fixed on Hermione as she observed the spectacle in front of her, she had felt his eyes on her the whole time, and when her own eyes met his face she almost broke into a laugh. He was smiling wide, a sparkle in his eyes and pink cheeks; he looked like a child that couldn't wait to unwrap his presents.
"Let's go ice skating!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the centre of the room. Hermione was still in shock and didn't react, she just followed him until she cautiously stepped on the smooth surface of the ice, hoping it wouldn't break - it was George's creation after all, and she had witnessed first hand how wrongly the twins' experiments could go. Draco moved his wand and two sharp blades appeared under her footwear, he did the same for himself. Hermione had not skated since she was a child, since her mother taught her. She took an uncertain step and almost fell right on her arse.
"Scared, Granger?" Draco said with a playful smirk. He took off and effortlessly slid on the ice just to show off. After a couple of attempts, Hermione remembered how to skate and did a couple of loops, chin up just to spite him. Draco snickered and skidded around her a couple of times, just to stop right in front of her. She scowled at him because the air from his movements almost set her off balance.
"What's wrong?" he asked, one eyebrow arched up.
"I hate Christmas," she confessed, biting her lip.
Draco frowned and shook his head. "Nonsense, all this is just...magical. You can't hate it."
Hermione scoffed and huffed, moving a loose curl out of her eyesight. "Well, that's the issue. Isn't it? Christmas is the most magical time of the year."
She turned to leave the room, tired of all that and frankly quite hungry, but she slipped on the sheer ice. Before she could smash her face on the ground, Draco caught her waist and pulled her up in his strong arms. He held her there, hands sliding to the small of her back. His grey eyes were clear and shone with a blue tinge, standing out in all the white snow surrounding them.
Draco briefly looked at her lips and let out some air before speaking, his breath tickling her nose. "Magic can't cure grief, or bring people back, but I can certainly show you all the fantastic things it can do. This," He pointed a finger around them - she felt cold where his hand had been - then he went on, "This is just a taste. Magic can do so much more. You might have only forgotten."
His feelings towards magic were so real, and he was so open about it that Hermione almost agreed to go back to the wizarding world with him right then. But suddenly the fear of the war hit her, and self doubt struck her pride again.
Hermione shook her head, tired of people trying to convince her, some to force her, to change her mind. Dragging her feet, she freed herself from his embrace and began awkwardly skating back and forth in front of the fireplace. "I can't go back. I just can't," she repeated the same thing over and over like a mantra. She felt panicked, cornered, and trapped. She wished she could slam the front door open and run far away from that cabin, away from Draco and all the Christmas charms he had put up. Everything was suffocatingly inviting.
With a sigh, Draco extracted a red, palm sized box from his pocket, and all the snow and the Christmas decorations, the snowmen, and the gnomes - the latter cursed and complained - flew to the box, shrinking to fit in it. The couch and the coffee table reappeared, and the room shrunk back to its original size.
"When did you start being a coward and repressing your instinct? It's so unlike you Gryffindors." She could feel the smirk in Draco's words, mocking and daring. Prat.
She stopped in front of the blazing flames, hands tightly gripping the mantle that was now made of wood and not of ice.
"Are you scared of your own nature, Granger?" he pressed. "You are a witch. Accept it. Own it!" The childish mockery was gone, he was dead serious, and his words hit her hard. Why couldn't he just shut up? She stared at the fire tongues dancing in the hearth. With a gasp she swallowed hard, trying to calm down her racing heart and the tingling sensation that was messing with her belly. She knew that feeling, she remembered exactly the first time she felt it and every time after that, stronger and deeper every chance it got to lash out from within her soul.
"Magic," Draco named that feeling for her and she sensed his presence behind her. He wasn't even touching her, but she knew his warmth and his magic were somewhere close. His primal power was stretching out of his body and gently lashing at her own.
"Do you feel it, Hermione?" Her name swished on his tongue like warm tea and she quivered. "Do you feel my magic?" he asked again, and she could. Oh Merlin, if she could; she was able to feel every single lap of his innate power. It was crushing her soul, penetrating her shields, and melting into her core, aching to mingle with hers.
Then, his hand was on her lower belly; she panted a moan as he finally leaned in on her, his body was hard and hot against her back.
"Do you feel your power, right there?" His hand moved down towards her core. Her head fell backwards and Draco's other hand captured the exposed flesh of her neck. "Do you feel me?" His breath hovered on her earlobe.
Hermione couldn't contain a whimper, as her defences crumbled and their magic auras twirled around each other, spiralling in her very centre. She arched her back and felt his arousal. A sense of euphoria took over her senses, and Hermione deliberately brushed her buttocks on his hard erection. He groaned and the sound reverberated inside of her.
"Don't deny it, Granger," he begged her in a low broken voice, and her brain exploded into a kaleidoscope of colours, that sizzled like fireworks. She sensed more than saw the sparks and hues in front of her shut eyes. With a sharp exhale, she let out all of her power.
The ice around the cabin shuttered in a series of zigzagging crashes, and Draco's body skidded across the room, away from her, leaving her cold and shaky.
Heaving and gasping, Hermione almost drowned in the delight that she was experiencing all over her skin. How could she have denied herself for so long? Static electricity tingled and crackled over her body, and inside she felt like melting. She slowly turned around, and her eyes found Draco sitting on the couch. His tall muscular body was sprawled out, one hand clutching an armrest, the other gripping the back of the couch, and legs spread wide as though he had landed on it hard. His eyes, pools of quicksilver, were smouldering and fixed on her. What she felt for the wizard before her in that very moment was an attraction just as raw as the one he had shown her in the face of magic. He had pulled her out of self pity, and she adored it.
Everything felt hot and wet, Hermione was aching from the inside out. She needed to shake off that sensation, to sooth that want, the name of which she couldn't grasp. In two leaps, she jumped over the coffee table and onto Draco's lap, her legs straddling him. Her hands grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him closer. Her mouth settled over his parted lips. She breathed in his fresh scent, soap and sandalwood, with an undertone of sweat; it drove her crazy. His breaths came fast and expectant, tiny waves on her mouth. Her lips were on fire. The need to put the flame out overtook her and she kissed him, her tongue immediately lapping at his lower lip.
Draco growled and stuck his own tongue out to brush on hers, his hands gripped her sides. He was like ice, cold and rough and he melted on her lips, giving her a bit of relief, but it was not enough. She needed more. Hermione cupped the sides of his neck and dragged him closer, exploring his mouth. She wanted more. Following the swaying of their magic energies dancing together, Hermione connected their cores, but the clothes kept her from getting any friction or satisfaction. She craved more. He moved his hands on her lower back and pressed her harder on his thick sex. More.
Salazar, Granger was killing him. She was all over him and she felt so fucking good that he almost exploded in his trousers. That outburst of sex and magic was so unexpected - well, no, not unexpected, he had hoped to shag her from the second he had laid eyes on her. He had always found her attractive, despite her blood and his bloody upbringing, he had never been able to deny that he was intrigued by her. But it didn't fucking matter, Hermione on him was just fucking great. She was grinding on his cock as though she were trying to take his trousers and briefs off with her groping. Her hands caressed his chest and stomach and dipped right to the edge of his shirt. Her delicate fingers began working on the hem, pushing it up.
Impatient, Draco helped her and yanked his shirt up and off him. Her eyes laved his torso and then they locked with his. Hermione gave him a naughty smirk, fire burning in her gorgeous, amber eyes. Her blast of magic made her hair frizzy and electrified. She was fucking glorious, and he couldn't wait to connect his power with hers; he could savour the very moment in which he would enter her core, and melt inside her. Oh fuck, he was going to make her come so hard. He gaped at her swollen lips in awe and then pressed his hands on her back, pulling her close and immediately swearing at the contact of her pullover on his chest. She had way too much clothing on.
All of a sudden a male voice erupted out of nowhere, resonating as though it had been amplified with magic. "Hermione, I'm so sorry."
Granger shrieked and jumped off of him. "Harry?" she coughed the fucking name out as her arse landed hard on the floor. She was staring, mouth agape, at a shimmery silvery light that was leaping and bounding around the room. The damned incorporeal twinkle finally stopped its jerking around and came to a halt before Granger, slowly turning into a stag. So that was Potter's fucking Patronus, a stag, an annoying bouncing creature. The thing spoke again, "George's new Snowed-In-Retreat Charm was supposed to last only four hours. He never told me that he was still testing it." Granger scowled at the deer, her face and hair still beautifully dishevelled. The animal shook his head, displaying its antlers and said, "Anyway, I'm on my way. I hope Malfoy behaved and...sorry."
Granger blinked and blew out some air through her plump and inviting lips. Draco let out a frustrated sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. Her head jerked towards him as though she had forgotten he was there, eyes wide like a doe in front of a predator. He was sure his eyes were glowering. He couldn't help it. His cock was still twitching, still hopeful for some action.
The Boy Who Couldn't Just Fucking Die was going to meet Death soon, and Draco was going to make sure of it. He unceremoniously adjusted his tented trousers and stood. He needed to leave. With a wand flick, he summoned his cloak and reached inside of the internal pocket. His fingers closed around an intricate motif, carved into a piece of long vine wood. He had stolen it from the Snatchers on that damned day - when Hermione had been dragged to his family's manor - and kept it ever since.
Draco had planned the whole thing out in every tiny detail. To convince her to go back, he was going to get a rise out of her, flaunting his magical skills, at first. Then, he had the intention of apparating her to Hogwarts, showing her the library and all that she had loved in the magical world. At last, he would have lured her back with her own wand. But then, he had laid eyes on her through the window, her delicate eyebrows pinched together as she stared at that weird light up Muggle box, lips pursed in the most attractive pout. And all his plans had gone to shite. He had just wanted to get to know her and, well, yes, to find out what those lips tasted like. Potter had helped with that, trapping them there, but, of course, the git had also ruined everything.
He extracted the wand from the pocket and directed his eyes to Hermione. He detected her pupils dilating as she recognised her wand. She straightened her back to inch closer to it, also getting right in front on his erection. She wanted it. He bit his lip and one side of his mouth rose slightly. She looked so gorgeous, kneeling down in front of his cock, wanton and magic still electrifying her bushy hair.
"Magic is fucking sexy on you, Granger," he hissed out, moving the wand closer to her.
Her hands rose, and her fingers stroked the length of her wand, worshipping it and relishing in the feel of it. He could almost feel her fingers on him; he shivered and let the wood go. She caressed it up and down again; the sight made his softening cock instantly hard again. He needed out of there before he took her on the floor, giving Potter a good show.
"Merry fucking Christmas, Granger. You know where to find me." He winked and spun on his feet.
Her lustful grin was the last thing he saw before he apparated away, but he had a feeling that he would meet the witch very soon, back in the Wizarding World.