Please see important Author Note at the end.
Chapter 25
When Draco got up from the table, Ernie took a quick glance at his retreating back and then occupied his vacated chair in a move surprisingly Slytherin. Leaning over, he asked, "So how did the soup come out?"
It took Hermione a moment to piece together what he was talking about. "Oh! You're the friend that gave Draco that recipe? It was quite good!"
Ernie's jaw dropped open, and he appeared gobsmacked. Hermione blinked into the sudden silence around the table, unsure about what she had said to cause that reaction.
"He said that?" he asked, incredulously.
Confused, Hermione looked around the table to see Susan laughing into her water glass again. "He just said that he was trying a new recipe from a friend." When she got no further reaction from Ernie, she added, "That was all he said." She fought the urge to apologize, not knowing what she'd be apologizing for, but Ernie's intense reaction seemed to require acknowledgement.
For a moment, she almost thought she saw a thin sheet of tears welling up in his eyes before he blinked them away.
"He—he said I was his friend?"
Before she could respond to Ernie, Draco returned and Ernie stood to let him back into his chair. The beaming smile on his face had Draco's eyes narrowing and looking back and forth between him and Hermione.
Ernie clapped him on the back in a friendly, enthusiastic manner. (Did Ernie do anything that wasn't friendly and enthusiastic?) "Draco, Draco, my good friend!" He beamed at him, and then at the group, his arm resting across Draco's shoulders. "Drake, my best mate!"
The look on Draco's face would have frightened a lesser man's heart into stopping. "Remove your hand, or I will break it, MacMillan."
"Haha," Ernie laughed, as he quickly backed away and sat in his own seat. "Always joking!"
Hermione tried not to smile, but Ernie's gleeful face was too much to resist. He was still beaming at Draco.
Draco looked at Hermione and said loudly, "What the hell just happened, Granger?"
She blinked and then replied airily, "Nothing, just chatting with your friends." There was an excited squeak from Ernie's direction at her use of the word 'friends' again, but when Draco's head swiveled to see what it was, Ernie was carefully looking at something across the room.
"They're not my friends, Granger," he said, grumpily. "They're just a bunch of twats who decided they had nowhere better to sit."
Hannah sighed heavily, in what Hermione was 98-percent certain was an exaggerated dramatic fashion, based on the slight twinkle in her eye. "Of course, a Malfoy would never be friends with a bunch of Hufflepuffs. I'm pretty sure it's in the Malfoy rulebook. #17 or something like that."
"Ah-ha!" Hermione crowed, looking back at him. "I knew there must be a rulebook!"
Draco just rolled his eyes, and ate some of the chips in front of him. "And I told you: Malfoys don't need rules to state the obvious."
"More like you don't want your precious rules committed to a potentially compromising document!" Susan pointed out.
"There's no rulebook, Bones." He waited a moment while he ate another chip, and then added, "And if there was, I wouldn't tell you, anyway."
The three Hufflepuffs laughed as if Draco had just told a joke. "Yup, good mood he's in today," Susan confirmed.
Ernie leaned forward onto the table, his elbow perched precariously next to his drink. "So what you're saying Drake, is that it's an unwritten rule that Malfoys don't have dealings with Hufflepuffs?"
Still smiling from the previous interaction, Hermione expected Draco to snipe some more, particularly at the irritating nickname, and perhaps even insulting Helga Hufflepuff herself. She looked eagerly at him, waiting for his next witty remark. But Draco just glared stonily at Ernie, who smiled far too innocently at him to be a man setting himself up for an insult.
When he still didn't say anything and just continued glaring at Ernie, who started whistling what sounded like Beedle Deedle the Beaded Beadle Bardle (a common wizarding children's song), Hermione chimed in, "I admit, I never thought I'd see the day Draco Malfoy would be sitting at a table having drinks with three Hufflepuffs."
She must have mistook the mood. What seemed like a casual teasing of the common Slytherin trait of avoiding Hufflepuffs (although, let's face it, everyone likes to pretend they are too cool for Hufflepuffs) clearly meant something more. Hermione glanced back and forth between Draco and the others, who were silently watching him. She didn't seem to understand what they were waiting for.
When Draco finally spoke, it was to Hermione and with the slightest edge of defensiveness. "Granger, my cousin was a Hufflepuff."
Slightly bewildered by that comment, Hermione was just repeating, "You're co—?" when she got cut off by the other three shouting, "Huff! Huff! Huff!"
As they shouted, they lifted their glasses and clinked them together.
From around the room in isolated pockets came an echoing, "Huff! Huff! Huff!" along with the light tinkling sounds of several glasses being tapped together in answer.
Hermione blinked in surprise, looking over at Draco who had a slightly pained look on his face.
"It's the sound a badger makes," he explained to her, motioning his fingers at the others who were sipping from their glasses.
"Oh?" Ernie asked, gleefully, a shit-eating grin on his face. "What sound is that, Drake?" He held his glass up to Draco, as if waiting.
"I'm not going to say it MacMillan, so shut your gob."
Ernie just wagged his half full glass in the air, still waiting. "C'mon, Draco! Just one. You can do it."
"I'm not a Hufflepuff, you arse."
Susan and Hannah both snorted at that, enjoying what was clearly not the first time this conversation was happening.
"One little huff. You're practically an honorary Hufflepuff, anyway."
Draco's glare was immediate, giving Hermione cause for concern for the life of the young man. She wondered briefly what the pub's policy was for when an Auror kills a patron in a one-sided duel.
To her surprise, Draco didn't say anything, his face stern, his eyes locking instead onto his own drink.
When Draco still refused to look at him, Ernie got a sly look on his face, still holding up his glass. "For Tonks, Draco," he wheedled, just loud enough for their table to hear.
There was a moment tense with expectation where Hermione felt like she should hold her breath.
Suddenly Draco's glass came up to hit Ernie's with a quick clink, spilling some of his untouched beverage. "Huff, you fuckin' badger," he muttered through gritted teeth.
The table, Hermione included, roared with laughter.
"Huff! Huff! Huff!" they shouted, and the room echoed with more badgers in response. Hermione couldn't help laughing again. She tried not to, she really did. But the look of long-suffering on Draco's face amidst all the raised glasses was too hilarious for her to resist. And if she didn't laugh, she rather thought she would start crying at the way her friend, Nymphadora Tonks—Hufflepuff, war-heroine—was still remembered, even by Draco Malfoy, who Hermione was just realizing was Tonks' cousin on her mother's side.
She looked around The Den—the badger's den—and realized Draco had reluctantly and probably unconsciously gravitated toward a place that was a reminder of the one family member he actually felt proud to be associated with.
She really did tear up at that, surreptitiously swiping away the wetness from her eyes before Draco could see it and feel even more uncomfortable than he already was.
The gesture did not go unnoticed by Hannah, though, who gave her a kind smile. And in that moment Hermione knew that the whole conversation had been staged for her benefit. For some reason the three Hufflepuffs thought she needed this tiny insight into Draco Malfoy, and though clearly at the expense of Draco's comfort and pride, they'd manipulated it so she'd see this strangely emotional side of the man widely considered to be the most unfeeling jackass to ever wear the badge.
She smiled over at him as he glared down at his glass and she wondered if he knew that his cousin had been known for being a cranky Auror as well, easy to irritate and difficult to work with. As the others began a new conversation about the upcoming Harpies match, Hermione casually placed her hand over Draco's where it was still wrapped around his glass.
It was only a moment before he turned his palm up to clasp her hand, and she squeezed it, meeting his eyes briefly. She tried to keep all of the amusement out of her expression, but it wasn't as hard as she'd thought it would be, when she saw the same look in his eyes that she'd seen when he'd apologized for that night in Malfoy Manor.
She smiled again, a sappy thing she knew the others were politely ignoring, and she brought his hand into her lap where she could hold it in both of hers.
She forgot that her short skirt meant that the back of his hand rubbed against the bare skin of her leg, causing her to shiver in surprise. Her eyes quickly met his again, not at all surprised to see that he'd quickly been distracted from his pique and was instead no doubt thinking a variety of impure thoughts about her legs. She was suddenly very aware that if she let go of his hand it was not going back to his glass on the table.
She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat and crossed her legs, trying to tune back into what Susan was saying about the Harpies' substitute Keeper, and forget how warm his hand felt—and how warm it then made her feel.
A loud thrumming interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to see a small area had been cleared in a corner of the pub, like a makeshift stage. A wizard in brightly colored robes was testing out an instrument.
"Oh, I love this group!" Hannah exclaimed.
Before Hermione realized what was happening, the Hufflepuffs had slid their chairs around so that they could all cram on one side of their table and get a good view of the band that was apparently about to perform. Draco and Hermione were caught in the middle, with the women on the other side of her, and Ernie obliviously ignoring Draco's growl as he settled himself on Draco's other side.
The rest of the small pub was likewise rearranging themselves so that everyone could get a good view. It was a good thing Hufflepuffs were so friendly as everyone was sitting just a little closer than normal.
Draco leaned down to whisper in Hermione's ear, moving a lock of hair as he did so. "We don't have to stay if you don't want to." She felt tingles where his breath fluttered against her neck.
"N-no, it's okay," she said, suddenly full of nerves again. "I don't mind staying for a little while."
He made a little grimace, possibly directed at Ernie who was crowding him while he cheered the band's opening notes. But instead of grumbling (or knocking the man over, as Hermione expected he might), Draco leaned back in his seat, placing his arm around her again, and pulling her in close to his side.
She went easily, enjoying the solid feel of his warmth, even leaning her head on his shoulder, barely refraining from rubbing her face against his robes.
She was jostled suddenly from the side Susan was on, and heard several voices (three warmly enthusiastic and one much put-upon) cry out, "Justin!" She turned and recognized another one of her old classmates, Justin Finch-Fletchley, looking a bit damp since he'd just arrived out of the misty rain.
"Come sit with us," Hannah suggested, motioning to Susan and Hermione to scoot in. The girls scooted along the chairs like it was a bench. Hermione hadn't gotten a chance to look around with the sudden press of people, but it was entirely possible the chairs had indeed melded into a bench shape, much as the tables had merged together.
Hermione had just wedged her arm into Draco's side when he laughed and grinned at her. "Like this, Granger." His hands came down around her waist, sending a jolt of heat through her, but all he did was lift her up to settle her in his lap, her legs sprawling to either side. She was suddenly very aware of how short her skirt was, and was thankful that the tabletop was blocking the view from everyone else.
With more room, the others easily accommodated the new addition to their group.
Hermione could feel Draco's low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Hmm, yes, this is much better," he said.
Draco completely missed whatever opening song the band had started with. And most of the second song, too. Actually, he wasn't really paying attention to much else besides the witch in his arms.
He'd been distracted earlier, trying to grasp the errant thoughts running through his head regarding Patronuses, but the answers wouldn't come. He'd have to talk about it with Potter later and see if the Golden Boy had any ideas. Draco's intuition told him that he was onto something.
But he didn't feel like thinking about work right then. He'd been working extra shifts all week, and he was finally off for the weekend. Hermione was sitting in his lap, and despite the fact that a sea of Hufflepuffs surrounded him, he felt incredibly content.
He nuzzled a bit at her hair and she obligingly tilted her head to the side so he could settle his chin on her shoulder. "You smell good," he said against her neck, confident his words didn't carry too far through the noise of the music. He felt, rather than saw, the smile come to her face.
He surreptitiously touched his lips to the sensitive skin, smiling to himself when it pebbled with goosebumps. His tongue darted just a little bit to lick her under her ear and when she giggled he said, "You taste good, too."
Just then, Ernie bumped into Draco's side, having been jostled by the person on the other side of him. Draco's arms quickly came up around Hermione as he glared at the offenders.
"Sorry," Ernie apologized. He looked at the two of them cuddled up together and then opened his mouth to say something. At Draco's narrowed eyes, he changed his mind and quickly turned back to face the stage again, his face comically nonchalant.
"You don't have to be so mean to him," Hermione gently chastised.
"He interrupted me," Draco said, petulantly.
"We're just sitting here," she pointed out.
He settled his mouth against her neck again, giving it tiny nibbling kisses. "No, you're just sitting here. I'm preparing to do all kinds of unspeakable things to the witch in my lap while everyone else is distracted listening to this Salazar-forsaken band."
"This is classic Wizarding music, Malfoy." She conveniently ignored his other more suggestive comment, though the way she squirmed a bit in his lap told him that she'd definitely heard it. "Are you saying you actually prefer the Muggle versions?"
"What I prefer," he said, "is the way the Muggle club lets me hold you very, very close." His hands squeezed her hips a tiny bit before they started trailing down her legs in time with his next words. "And I very much prefer how the music lets me run my hands all over your body, with no one to protest."
He reached the hem of her dress, and he felt her breathing suddenly hitch. He grinned to himself. She was so much fun to rile up. The fabric beneath his fingers was very soft, and he decided that this was quite possibly his favorite dress. He missed the denim jeans, and their particularly enticing rear pockets, but this short thing barely came past her thighs when she was sitting. Perched in his lap the way she was, that meant the softness of her skin was just mere inches away.
He tugged on her skirt until it hiked up a tiny bit higher. His fingertips brushed across the tops of her bare legs, and he felt her shudder against him.
"Malfoy," she said lowly, in a warning he didn't bother heeding.
"Granger," he answered, the word muffled against her skin. He kissed her neck again, a wet, open-mouthed kiss and then traced a circle on the sensitive flesh with his tongue while his fingers stroked just under the hem of her skirt.
She seemed to melt backwards into him, and he thought he heard a soft sigh under the blare of the band. The skin under his fingertips grew unmistakably hotter, and whatever scent she was wearing grew thicker around him as her pulse hammered in her throat.
He liked knowing that he had this power over her. He could make her forget where she was, like she had yesterday at work when he'd kissed her and she'd practically climbed him trying to pull him closer. If the damn door hadn't been open, and Melinda hadn't been pretending to shuffle papers very loudly in warning, he very likely would have been much later for the briefing that was making him miss lunch. It had taken a supreme amount of self-control to refrain from flicking his wand and both shutting the door and clearing off her desk (along with her clothes) at the same time.
Remembering the hazy look in her eyes when he'd pulled back, and the way her hair looked tousled from his hands and her lips swollen from his kiss, made his heart thump faster while he imagined that same look on her face when he tossed this dress of hers on to his bedroom floor.
He slid his hand more firmly up her thigh, grateful for the way the tabletop hid his actions. His palm seemed to glide against her skin until his fingers were very close to the center of her heat. Quickly, her hand came down on top of where his was under her skirt, stopping his movement, but he could hear the way she was breathing hard and the hold she had on him was very loose.
He changed the focus of his attention and continued to kiss her neck, trailing down over her shoulder, scraping his teeth lightly over her skin. With his free arm, he pulled at her waist, angling her tighter to him. He bit at her neck, groaning at how good her body felt so warm and pliant in his arms.
Suddenly quivering, her restraining hand fell away, so he took that as permission to slide his hand farther up her thigh until his fingers came right up against cloth. She jolted at the feel of him, and he held her tight, chuckling.
"What color are these, I wonder?" he whispered in her ear, lightly running his forefinger across the center, enjoying the way her legs seemed to want to close around his hand. "Brown to match the dress? White?" He stroked her again, and she whimpered softly. "Aren't you going to tell me? Or will I just have to find out myself?"
"B-black," she stammered, arching backwards against him. He wasn't sure whether she was trying to get away from his hand or to move her body closer, but he didn't much care which it was, because the feel of her wriggling on his lap was sending jolts of pleasure throughout his entire body.
"Black knickers?" He made a tsking sound, his fingers still softly stroking. "Thought you were going to get lucky tonight, Granger?"
She turned her head slightly to look at him, her eyes almost gold in the dim lighting as they caught his and held. There was the slightest of a challenge in her look that sent a thrill down his spine before he heard her words. "Actually, I was counting on it, Malfoy."
He stared at her, trying to remind himself that he was in a public place, despite the fact that he had his hand up her dress. It was all he could do to refrain from lifting her onto the table and pounding into her to the beat of whatever song The Knotty Wands was playing now.
Before he could respond, everyone else had jumped up to their feet cheering, and the lights came up, prompting him to remove his hand, though his gaze never wavered from her face. It looked like the band was going to take a quick break before their next set.
"MacMillan," Draco said, his voice sharp, though he was still looking at Hermione. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ernie's attention drift over to them.
"What?" Ernie asked.
"We're leaving," Draco told him. "You're in the way."
"Merlin," the other Auror complained. "You can't ask nicely, every now and again, just for a change of pace? You'd think—" His voice cut off as he finally caught on to the tension emanating from the couple beside him. "Right-o," he said, quickly scooting out from behind the table to let them out, as if afraid he'd get hexed if he didn't move fast enough. The mood Draco was in, he was probably right.
Draco nudged Hermione off of his lap and noted with satisfaction that her legs wobbled as she stepped aside. Once he was on his feet, he grabbed her hand and hauled her behind him as he made a path through the enthusiastic Hufflepuffs towards the door. He didn't even bother saying goodbye to Hannah and Susan, though he usually made an attempt at civility for their sake.
Hermione's steps were rapid to keep up with his longer strides. Once they were outside in the damp night air he stopped abruptly and turned around, causing her to crash into him.
"Oh! Draco, wha—"
Before she could recover, he'd wrapped his arms around her and lowered his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss, the way he'd wanted to kiss her for the last six songs. She tasted like the wine, and like something else sweet and tangy that was just exquisitely her, and he couldn't ever seem to get enough of it. He angled her head backwards, dominating her lips, his tongue thrusting into her mouth to clash with hers.
He finally broke it off and saw that same hazy look on her face that he'd been fantasizing about all day. But everything inside of him was so tied up and twisted into knots, he couldn't even smile about it. She gasped for breath in his arms, but he didn't let her pull away. He needed her to be closer, as close as possible; the need was stretching his nerves so tight, he thought he might snap.
It had been all fun and games inside the pub, when he was nearly content to tease her and to enjoy the feel of her body. However, now that need was a sharp ache inside of him, and he'd waited so long for her, he didn't think he could wait even one moment longer.
"Tell me you're coming home with me, Hermione," he rasped, the words in his hoarse voice not quite an order.
It turned out he could wait at least one more moment, as his words took at least that long to filter through her blissful haze. He watched her blink to clear her head, wondering at how just that tiny movement could somehow make him even more aroused.
"Oh, I—"
"Too late," he said, and he wrapped an arm around her, turning and Apparating them both away. One more moment had really been his limit.
~o0o~
They arrived with a crack in his bedroom.
Hermione had just enough time to marvel at the fact that he hadn't Splinched them both before his mouth was on hers again.
Oh, how this man could kiss! When his lips touched hers she was instantly filled with heat and electricity and sparkling lights. When his hands slid over her body, they left trails of fire over her skin.
Hermione was a thinker. She prided herself on her ability to think. But there was something so lovely and freeing about having all of her thoughts—along with her fears and her doubts—just washed away in the wonder of his kiss.
His mouth moved over hers firmly. A sense of urgency pulsed from him and through her body, her heart slamming inside of her chest.
For a moment he just kissed her, his arms linked around her waist crushing her against him. His mouth moved down the same side of her neck he'd been teasing all night.
She closed her eyes against the sensation and sighed.
"Merlin, I missed you," he groaned against her skin, before his mouth devoured hers again, his teeth nipping at her lips. "Why the hell didn't we come here first and skip the pub?" His hands were in her hair, leaning her backwards so he could nibble down her jaw and her neck.
She laughed breathily. "You wanted me to meet your friends, I think."
He growled a little, as he tongued the hollow at her throat, playing with the neckline of her dress. "Not my friends, Granger."
"Aren't they, though?" she asked, giggling when he nipped at her and didn't answer. Her giggle quickly turned to another sigh, and then a moan when his hands curved over her backside. He brought her up close to him where she could feel him against her belly.
Her hands instinctively curved around his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles through the fabric of his robes.
"You never answered me," he said, abruptly, pulling back to look at her. The low timbre of his voice sent flutters through her stomach. "Are you staying?"
His eyes were a molten grey, stormy and dark with desire.
Looking into them, she knew it was already much too late for her to leave.
She needed to be seared by that heat.
She needed what the kisses and the touches and the suggestive words all promised.
She wanted to know what it felt like to be taken by a man who truly wanted her. Just the thought of it made her shudder with a foreign hunger.
She launched herself at him, her mouth attacking his in a bruising kiss. She wanted to make him feel what she felt, to convey what she desperately wanted but couldn't form the words to say.
So she threw it all into that kiss.
As her teeth tugged on his lip, her hands fluttered at his robes, pushing them off his shoulders.
Desperate to be free of the encumbering fabric, he shook it off and then held her tight again, moaning into her mouth.
For a moment, she had control, and reveled in the feel of him trembling against her. But then he ripped it away from her, his hands and mouth feverish as he tilted her until she felt herself falling backwards. The room seemed to spin and the strength in his arms as he lowered her to the bed only turned her on even more.
The mattress and the luxurious bedding were very soft. But the man above her was firm and hard, and the feel of his weight pressing into her was divine. With quick tugs, he yanked off her new boots and she thanked him by immediately wrapping her legs around him.
They both groaned at the sudden feel of their bodies aligning so closely. She wanted desperately to be skin to skin already. She tried to remember a wandless spell for removing clothes, but his hands sliding up her bare legs were making it impossible to concentrate.
His long fingers then dragged her against him, delving for the flesh underneath the fabric. When his fingers reached the lacy edges that outlined her hips, he suddenly remembered something. "Black knickers. I want to see them," he muttered.
Feverishly, he worked at the buttons of her dress, impatient to see what he'd spent so long dreaming of. His mouth came down to kiss the skin that was suddenly bared to him.
Hermione arched against his mouth but he just kept moving, following his fingers and licking his way down the expanse of her stomach. Each swipe of his tongue had her quivering.
When he finally had the last button undone, the dress fell away to either side of her. He paused to stare at her open before him. His gaze traveled up from her legs, still wrapped around his waist, past her slinky black knickers to the matching satin bra.
For a brief moment, Hermione felt self-conscious, hearing again harsh words ringing in her ears. She tried to resist the impulse to cover herself up. "I'm sorry I'm not really—" she began, even though she told herself not to say anything.
Draco cut her off with hushed tones. "You're so beautiful."
"What?" she said, taken aback. His words made her blush. She knew she wasn't, not really, but the look in his eyes as his gaze devoured her made her believe it might be true.
He ran his fingertips reverently down her body, smoothing past her curves and the slight flare of her hips. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined, and I have a very good, very thorough, very creative imagination."
She had a quick glimpse of torrid images as they flickered through her mind.
The tension of waiting coiled tightly inside of her. She was desperate for his touch, knowing it would melt away all of the suffocating insecurities that arose as he looked at her.
As if he could read her mind, he smirked and then crawled over her, finally lowering his mouth again. He trailed soft kisses down to that black bra and she exhaled shakily. She barely even noticed when he pulled the straps down, too busy thinking about the searing heat of his lips, the clever flicks of his tongue.
Her hands came up at the sharp jolt that went through her, holding his head to her. Gasping, she arched into him, her legs pulling him closer.
His hands smoothly pulled her into him as he rocked against her.
The feel of his firm fingers reminded her of the way he had been teasing her earlier that night. She imagined his fingers doing all sorts of naughty things to her and she shook with the force of her pent up need.
Her hands scrabbled impatiently at his clothing, trying to tug his shirt upward so that she could feel his skin against hers.
She heard him chuckling at her actions.
The chuckling quickly turned to a painful groan as she finally got his shirt off just as the sound of the Floo chiming interrupted them.
"Harry," he growled, stilling his movements.
"I'm going to kill him," Hermione gasped.
Draco didn't budge. With one hand he kept a firm grasp on her, and with his other he called his wand to him. After performing a rushed silencing charm that blocked out the intrusive chiming, he carelessly let his wand fall back onto the floor.
"It's not urgent," he explained blithely, his free arm wrapping around her once more. "This, on the other hand is quite urgent. And I will not be interrupted by bloody Potter."
With those words, he renewed his attack on her body. His mouth was fierce and thorough, kissing and licking every inch of her.
Hermione's skin felt heated and so sensitized everywhere that she thought she might be glowing. Where his mouth wasn't, his hands were, tracing the shape of her, molding her body to him, stoking the flames of her arousal until she felt she couldn't be burning any hotter.
Her own hands were moving feverishly around his body. She loved the feel of his hard, Auror-trained muscles rippling under her fingertips and the way his skin heated up when her fingers clamped onto his back.
She wanted more, each garment between them too much. Her hands fussed with his trousers and he kicked them off for her.
His hands tore away her undergarments, leaving them both naked.
She didn't have more than a moment to enjoy the sight of his body before the heat of him had her closing her eyes and moaning with anticipation.
She trembled with the need she had to feel him against her.
"Easy there, Granger," he murmured.
At his touch, her eyes rolled back in her head. Merlin, he felt so good. She wanted him so bad.
He groaned as they slowly joined together.
"Draco," she whimpered, needing more, so much more, her body shaking.
His face was strained, taking a moment to savor the feeling of her body before he started to move.
The pleasure of it caused them both to cry out. It was brilliant.
He loved it. The feel of her, the smell, the taste, the knowledge that he was the one making her scream and shudder and shake. He couldn't get enough.
She was his, and he wanted her to feel it through every inch of her body. He wanted her to be branded with his heat.
His mouth came back to hers, devouring each of her tiny cries, his tongue and teeth scraping at her jaw. His body moved harder and faster.
Her cries were just gasps and groans, her hands clutching blindly at him in her pleasure, her body coiling tighter and tighter with tension.
A smile crossed his lips as he felt her trembling closer to that edge, and he transferred his attention to her neck, conveniently exposed as her head fell backwards. Her hands squeezed at his shoulder with every hard suck on her skin timed perfectly with his movements.
When she could take no more and the pleasure finally exploded inside of her, she screamed his name.
The sound of it echoing off the walls had him shuddering his own release.
He collapsed on top of her with a grunt. For several moments the two of them just breathed heavily.
"Merlin," she finally whispered, almost a prayer, her limbs falling laxly to the side.
He grinned at her openly. He had Hermione Granger naked in his bed, warm and pliant under him, all loose-limbed after incredible sex. He enjoyed the sight of her damp hair spread out on his pillows and the blissful well-pleasured expression on her face.
One of her hands came up to toy with a lock of his sweaty hair.
He felt a thrill all the way to the base of his spine at the way she casually touched him.
"You're really good at that," she murmured, sleepily, as he began to kiss the damp curve of her shoulder. He couldn't seem to resist whatever was within distance of his mouth and he decided it was no use trying.
"Mmmm," she hummed as his tongue flicked out to lick at her skin. She arched a little, dragging her hands down his back, feathering over the hard muscles of his shoulders. Her actions sent little sparks through him, and he knew it was only a matter of minutes before he'd be ready to take her again.
"You make me feel so good," she breathed, as if surprised at herself. "You always do, but this was," she paused, eyes closed, "incredible." She made that contented humming sound again. "I think that might have been the best sex I've ever had."
Draco felt it was the better part of valor to refrain from gloating. Better to simply repeat and show her again and again until she was no longer unsure.
"I think I might love you," she mumbled, surprising them both.
Her eyes suddenly flew open as her words lingered in the air. It was clear she hadn't meant to say the words, possibly hadn't even been aware that she was thinking them.
Something powerful and shimmery moved through him, something even stronger than before when she'd come apart in his arms. It made him want to shout with joy and pride and triumph. She was his. The emotions that he'd kept locked down for so long, that he'd only recently begun unwrapping, suddenly surged into him, overwhelming him with their strength and with the undeniable reality of his feelings-feelings she obviously still wasn't ready for.
With considerable effort, he swallowed them back and looked down at her panicked expression. Gently, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her jaw.
He settled his body comfortingly beside hers, one hand wrapping around her waist and cradling her against him. He trailed soft kisses back up towards her ear until he felt her body start to relax again. Then he whispered, "It's okay. You can tell me when you're sure."
Then his mouth found hers again, coaxing it open, and he set about ensuring she forgot any fear or embarrassment from speaking too soon.
~-o0o-~
It was some time later, in the room that was now in total darkness, when an amused voice teased with husky tones, "I seem to remember someone said it would be amazing."
"It was, I heard you say it yourself." The other voice in the darkness was slurred and a bit sleepy, as if the owner was speaking into a pillow.
"I don't recall using those exact words."
"No, they were more like, 'Yes, yes!' and 'More!'" There came a light thumping sound, as if something cloth-covered was hitting bare flesh.
"I also recall someone saying that we'd do it again."
The answering voice held a new note of interest. "I seem to recall that we did do it again. Although, if you need me to refresh your memory, that could be arranged."
"If you're not too tired…" The words lingered, a challenge in the air.
"You're the one who fell asleep after that last time."
There was a scuffling sound as of bodies shifting, and a giggling protest. "I was just giving you a chance to rest!"
"Well, let me show you how much I appreciate your consideration."
There were no more words for quite a while, though there were a variety of very active sounds that punctuated the darkness.
Then finally the flurry of movements stilled, and one voice whispered, "Amazing."
And the other one said, "I told you."
~-o0o-~
Ginny had Baby Jamie on her hip, when she walked into the living room to see her husband staring intensely at the fireplace. "What happened?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing."
It was obvious that Harry was lying, and with a questioning look on her face, Ginny waited patiently for him to explain. He did, of course.
"It's just…I tried ringing Malfoy earlier, and he didn't answer." He continued looking at the Floo with concern.
Ginny thought about his answer and then pointed out, "Well, he doesn't answer you every time, does he?"
Harry nodded emphatically. "Actually, yes. Every time. If he's home, which I know he is, because Floo calls don't go through at all when he's not home." The scowl that crossed his face was almost petulant. "He's just not answering."
They both contemplated this for a moment, while Ginny adjusted her hold on the baby. Since Harry was still staring a hole into the Floo, Ginny finally said, "You don't think—?"
Quickly, Harry cut her off and grimaced. "I'm trying not to. I'm sure there must be another reason."
For some reason this struck Ginny as hilarious. Her husband wasn't worried that Draco was missing, hurt, or anything of the sort. He was concerned that he was up to something. She grinned, even though Harry wasn't looking at her. "Or maybe it's the same reason twice."
"Ginny!" Harry protested, covering his ears, like it would somehow wipe the sudden images out of his mind. "That's my best friend!"
She cackled with glee. Too easy. "Aw, that's sweet. Draco will be so pleased to hear you call him that."
"You know who I mean!" Harry put his head in his hands. "I can't even say her name in this situation."
"And what situation is that?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Her—and him—and the not answering the Floo—" He couldn't take it, he shuddered and it was clear he was trying really hard not to think about it.
Baby Jamie chose just that moment to laugh uproariously. Charmed, Ginny laughed along with him, while Harry just glowered with a put-upon face.
"I suppose it's my fault. I told him to introduce her to his friends," Harry lamented.
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "And what does that have to do with anything?"
"You know how gooey she gets about friends."
"So enamored of a man with a friend, she just falls right into bed with him?"
At Harry's disgusted face, and protest of, "Ginny!" she just laughed harder.
"Not that it's any of your business, " she said, with a somewhat lofty air, "but I think—I really do—that they will both be fine."
Harry didn't answer, he just continued staring moodily at the fireplace.
Another silent moment passed and then something occurred to her, "So what did you need Malfoy for, anyway?"
Her husband avoided her eyes, and shrugged much too casually. "I can't remember."
After waiting a beat, Ginny broke out into peals of laughter that caused spots of red to appear high on Harry's cheeks, and set Baby Jamie to giggling again. "Harry James Potter, you deserve whatever you get! It's your own fault for trying to check up on them."
"Merlin, Gin! A little compassion?"
"No, they are both adults—consenting adults" she stressed, ignoring Harry's glare, "and it's better if you just don't think about it." She picked up the baby and set him into Harry's arms, a surefire way to pick up his mood.
Sure enough, Harry's ire melted in the face of chubby cheeks and a mouthful of drool. He jiggled his son a little, delighting in the way Jamie's eyes squinted in the light. So quickly distracted was he, that he almost missed Ginny's last suggestion.
"You can always ask him about it tomorrow."
He just gaped at her, and angrily turned Jamie away so he was facing the wall, as if the baby ought to be equally offended by his mother's ludicrous idea. "I am not talking to Malfoy about his sex life!"
"A-ha! So you admit it's probably sex."
He glared at her even more fiercely while patting the baby's back. "You are vile."
"And I'm going to ask Hermione all about it tomorrow!" she sing-songed, as she skipped off to the kitchen to prepare a late-night snack.
Once she was gone, Harry looked back at his son. "I want you to cover your ears tomorrow." Baby Jamie's head jerked forward in a semblance of a nod, and Harry grimly nodded back at him.
A/N: Hello, dear readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as I know it's one that many of you have been waiting on for a long time. If you've been with me since I started this story 2 years ago, you know it's been a long road to finally get them in bed. I had this chapter nearly finished many weeks ago, but I'm afraid I had to edit it about a million times, wondering if this chapter was going to be good enough for the story. Then just when I was ready to post it, Hawthorn & Vine temporarily went down. Many of you may know that H&V is my favorite website for my stories. In this case it was particularly important the chapter post on H&V first, before I posted it on FFN.
The reason is that FFN does not allow explicit (MA-rated) material to be posted onto their site. The above version of this chapter that you read is the M-rated version, edited for FFN. The full MA-rated version was supposed to be available exclusively on H&V. But it's been over a week and I've heard that it may be a couple more weeks before H&V gets back up, and I didn't want to make you all wait any longer.
I am cross-posting to A03, and eventually the full Explicit version of this story will be there, but not for several more weeks. (And like H&V, my A03 stories rated Explicit are ONLY available to registered users. So guests cannot access my explicit stories, they need to be signed in.)
In the meantime, until H&V goes up, I am making a SPECIAL arrangement for this chapter only. I have a new Author page on Facebook, under Maloreiy Webster. "Like" my page to follow it for updates, and message me to let me know that you'd like the explicit version of Chapter 25, and I will send you a PDF copy via Facebook Messenger (it also has a lovely little aesthetic that I made for this chapter, part of the extra content you will see on my author's page). This is the best I can do for my loyal readers. But I would like to point out that the explicit version is only a tiny bit different from this version, with more graphic imagery and language. Some authors do an entire "fade to black" to remove the scene entirely and shut the door on them, but I edited it very carefully to take out the "explicit" parts while keeping all of the important feelings and emotions. It is not necessary to read the MA-rated version. This provision is just for those who really want to read it, and who don't want to wait for it to post on H&V.
I do apologize for the inconvenience, and I look forward to meeting some of you on my author page.
REVIEW PREFERENCE: ALL REVIEWS WELCOME, INCLUDING CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. ABUSE IS NEVER TOLERATED.