Chapter Twelve

I think everyone was glad to see Draco and Hermione escape. Now what? How will they use their newfound freedom? Enjoy this offering – a bit quicker than the last one! As always, JKR is the esteemed creator.

When Draco woke up, it was already late morning judging by the light that seemed to peek through the haze of dust across every inch of the room. They had both needed a long sleep after the events of the past couple of days. Between her friends abandoning her and the Order acting like a pack of wankers, Hermione had been fraught with worry and tension. It hadn't taken much effort on his part to coax her into the front room and find a musty old couch where they could curl up in each other's arms. And if he had snuck one more gentle kiss onto her lips as she drifted to sleep, no one could blame him.

Draco grinned and stretched, noticing as he did that there was more room on the two-seater couch than there should be, since they had barely squeezed onto it together last night. His feet were draped over the edge and dangling in mid air, but he spun them around to land flat on the floor as he bolted upright, realising with a jolt that Hermione wasn't next to him anymore.

But before his anxiety could take hold, a familiar sort of whistling sound rose gently from a room behind him and he turned his head. The open doorway revealed a glimpse of long curvy legs encased in muggle denim. Hermione's legs. She was swaying backwards and forwards and watching over a rusty little kettle as it boiled on the stovetop. Draco rose to his feet and sauntered over to the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded over his chest. He watched her for a long time, loving the tantalising way her hips moved as she hummed along unconsciously to a song only she could hear. Her hair was rather wild from a night burrowed snugly against his shoulder, and her clothes were a bit crumpled too. But she seemed happy. As she poured the boiled water into two cups, her mouth was curled up into a soft smile.

"So remind me again why my aunt owns this battered old cottage stranded in the middle of nowhere?"

Hermione spun around with an even sweeter smile on her lips, obviously sensing that his scorn didn't really carry any malice to it.

"I think Ted bought it years ago as a fixer-upper!"

"Yes you mentioned that last night. But why in Salazar's name would anyone want to spend their time fixing up a place like this?"

Hermione chuckled and presented him with one of the two mugs she had prepared. Brewed strongly with just a dash of milk and no sugar; exactly how he liked it.

"It's a muggle thing," she explained patiently, blowing carefully on her own tea and resting one hip against the kitchen counter, "Muggles buy old run down properties and then spend time renovating them."

"Why?" he asked, confused, "Wouldn't they rather buy a place that's actually nice to live in without all the effort?"

She smiled even wider and gave a little shrug.

"They do it for fun. Like a hobby."

Draco cocked one eyebrow and looked at her sceptically.

"Uhuh…"

"Hey! Don't knock it til you try it. Which may be sooner than you think."

"What do you mean?" he asked with trepidation, eyes drifting over the mouldy cupboards and cracked and cobwebbed tiles around them.

"Well… who knows how long we'll be here?"

"So we're gonna…"

"Yep!" she interrupted with a cheeky smile, gesturing around to the grime caked onto on the windows, encircled by tatty curtains, "We may as well help out. We've got nothing else to do except wait for news that something's happened or for someone to contact us for help."

"I can think of a few things I'd rather be doing," Draco grumbled under his voice, but Hermione just ignored him and put her cup back next to the sink. She drew out her wand and flicked it at the tap and he watched impressed as the rust started to slowly creep back into itself and disappear.

"Come on, it'll be fun! Andromeda said if we're bored we can decorate this place any way we like! It'll keep us busy and take our minds off all the horrible things going on out there and everything that's happened already. We can actually achieve something together here!"

Despite himself, Draco felt a smile tug at his lips. Her enthusiasm was infectious and soon he was rolling his eyes and groaning good-naturedly.

"Alright you infuriating witch! We can do it if you wish."

Hermione clapped her hands together in delight and leaned forwards to peck Draco on the lips. He blinked in shock at the sudden feel of her mouth on his. But before he could respond she had pulled away and was blushing crimson while she stared at him in with wide eyes, surprised by her own actions.

"Alright then," she said in a slightly panicked voice, clearly trying to recover her composure, "shall we take a tour around the house and see what we're in for?"

Draco nodded and, feeling daring after her impulsive kiss a second ago, grasped her hand gently in his. With a smirk of triumph he led her back to the front of the house where they'd entered last night. He liked the feeling of her small hand wrapped in his larger one. Everything had been so rushed the night before that he hadn't really had time to appreciate it. But now he memorised the little details of the gesture. Her skin was pale and smooth and she seemed so tiny compared to him. It felt nice to hold someone's hand. He wasn't sure it was something he'd ever done with anyone, now that he thought about it. Maybe when he was very young and he'd held onto his mother's hand when they went to Diagon Alley. But he'd certainly never had such an innocent, affectionate contact like this with anyone in recent years. The way she trustingly followed him into each room, her brown eyes round and sincere, made a flutter start up in his stomach that he couldn't seem to stop no matter how many deep breaths he took.

As they wandered around the cottage, Hermione took note of a number of things she'd like to mend or repair. And although he was reluctant to admit it after his earlier doubts, Draco too was keen to take on one or two projects himself. He mentally made a list of a few features of the house that might actually be enjoyable to fix up. It wasn't long before he could see the appeal to muggles. It was one thing to buy a house you liked, but to make it yourself with your bare hands (or wands in this case) and design it to suit you personally was a tempting prospect. As they strolled through the house he pondered the space with new eyes, forming ideas in his head. Such as the little patch of garden in the side yard that would be nice for growing vegetables, or the winding staircase to the second floor that desperately needed a new bannister. And he was definitely struck by the idea of restoring the loft in the bedroom so that it could double as a cosy little library nook. When he suggested this last one to Hermione she tilted her head to the side and gave him such an intense look of adoration that the fluttering in his stomach erupted into actual tremors he could feel through his whole body.

"I hope Ted and Andromeda don't mind if we get a bit carried away," she murmured, and he realised then too that he had basically started planning in his mind a house that would be perfect for her. He wasn't about to apologize though. He could hardly be blamed for wanting to construct a home around her that was so wonderful she'd never want to leave.

"I'm sure they'll understand," he reassured her.

Hermione gave his hand one last squeeze and tugged him back to the living room at the front of the house where they had slept. Retrieving the beaded bag she had brought with them, he watched as she withdrew a little wrapped hamper of sandwiches and fruit, kept fresh by a stasis charm. The two munched happily on the food, sitting on the floor of the cosy space and discussing their plans for what they wanted to do. It was… wonderful, actually. He'd never spent a more pleasant afternoon, nor laughed so much. Occasionally he would lift a hand to brush a curl off her forehead and she would bestow one of her beautiful smiles in return.

If his past self from around second year could witness this moment, he would be disgusted by how much he was acting like a lovesick puppy. But he couldn't bring himself to care too much.

Just as they were finishing their simple meal, the familiar cracking sound of apparition could be heard. Hermione jumped to her feet and peered cautiously out the window, but her body relaxed instantly.

"It's Andromeda," she murmured, and he also brushed off the crumbs from their lunch as they both stood to attention. He noticed she didn't bother creating any distance between them, so they were standing very close together when his aunt entered the room.

"Oh good, you've gotten settled in!" she exclaimed upon seeing them.

"In a manner of speaking," Hermione chuckled with a shrug and a gesture towards the shabby couch where they had slept. But before the older woman could comment, Draco took the few steps towards her and caught her eye. His expression was serious and as genuine as he could manage.

"Androm…Aunt," he changed his mind at the last moment and decided to refer to her in more familial terms. He could tell it meant something to her as well, since a gentle smile crossed her face, "I don't know how I can begin to thank you for your help. I couldn't bear the thought of being uprooted and moved around like a common prisoner, especially if they separated me…"

He almost said from Hermione but stopped himself quickly. Although he suspected that his aunt already knew of their attachment and didn't particularly mind.

"Draco," she began with a sigh and a fond smirk, reaching forwards to grasp his hand reassuringly, "Your thanks is appreciated but not necessary. We're family. We take care of each other."

Draco nodded and gave her hand a squeeze. When he stepped back, he met Hermione's eye and saw her approving smile. He returned to her side and gave her shoulder a little bump. As he did, Andromeda gave a soft tut and gazed around the room in curiosity.

"I haven't been here for an age!" she mumbled to herself as she inspected the run down nature of the building, "We bought it years ago when Ted started reminiscing about summers in his childhood spent helping his father build their new house. But then when Ted had to go on the run from the ministry's muggle-born registration, we were worried that this place would draw too much attention. That's why I started the process of creating the Fidelius charm. And with Ted now protected at the Order headquarters we no longer needed him to use it. Luckily by then I'd worked out how to add a second secret keeper. I was never very good at the more complex charms work at school."

"The location is beautiful. The whole valley is quite breath taking," Hermione commented and the other woman smiled kindly.

"I'm just sorry the house itself is such a mess!"

"Nonsense. It has…um…potential!"

All three of them chuckled at Hermione's attempt to sound overly positive.

"That's a nice way of saying it's falling down around you," Andromeda drawled.

"How did the Order react to my sudden disappearance?" Draco asked curiously and Hermione nodded keenly along with his question. Andromeda gave a soft snort of pained amusement, looking between the two of them.

"Well you certainly know how to ruffle feathers," she began, and Draco gave her a grin that resembled pride, not at all upset at the possibility of angering the precious Order of the Phoenix and its overly zealous members. His Aunt continued, "They went into a full-blown panic when they found your room empty, casting all sorts of extra wards and defences on the house. And then when they discovered Hermione was gone too…" Here Andromeda actually smiled quite wickedly, "Well, let's just say that their first conclusion was that you had kidnapped her as part of some nefarious plot."

"Of course they did. Wankers," Hermione interjected wryly.

"But I think Minerva finally convinced them that you had probably just run away together. She made it all sound very romantic."

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes, but he was nevertheless grateful to the former Head of Gryffindor for her assistance.

"I have a feeling she probably enjoyed that," Hermione muttered with an indulgent smile. His aunt nodded her agreement.

"Apart from that, their reaction was predictably outraged and tediously scandalised."

Draco snorted again, louder this time, earning a bump on the shoulder from Hermione in return. As the three continued to discuss the implications of their hasty flight from the Order, Andromeda produced a whole basket of food, which she quickly enlarged to reveal what must be a week's worth of groceries, and they moved to stock the fridge and boil the kettle for more tea. And with every minute that she stayed, chatting comfortably with both him and Hermione, Draco realised that he actually really just liked this woman who happened to be his aunt. If she was his only family now, he couldn't be happier.

….

….

….

Over the next few days the two fugitives really got to work. Andromeda had repeated her very delighted permission for them to do whatever they wanted to the house. She had supplied them with enough food to last for days and Draco discovered early on that Hermione was an amazing cook. She could throw together any strange combination of ingredients and turn them into a gourmet feast. And the way she danced around that rickety old kitchen, using the variety of muggle appliances and tools, was impressive. He was used to having food just turn up on the table, both at Hogwarts and at home, from the hard but lrgely invisible work of house elves. He wasn't sure he'd ever really seen the process that went on behind the scenes. It was an odd realization actually. To discover that he had been eating meals all his life without really knowing everything that went into them, was a bit staggering. Although perfectly normal for a young, wealthy pureblood in their society, it still felt unsettling to suddenly realise that such a huge part of his world was relatively unknown to him.

Hermione had offered to teach him a few tricks in the kitchen and he found himself actually looking forward to it. She always looked so adorable with a streak of flour unknowingly resting against her cheek that he could brush away with his thumb. Not to mention the light, wistful tone of affection in her voice when she spoke about cooking with her mother when she was little. It made him realise that, just like Ted's "fixer-upper", there was actually more to these muggle customs than what met the eye. He had always thought these things were just chores, the menial tasks of house elves and servants. But now he thought maybe he had always been taught to be wilfully ignorant of muggle behaviour and the way they brought meaning to their lives and their relationships in unexpected ways. Hardly surprising, considering Lucius's prejudicial parenting.

For his part, Draco was really enjoying his work in the house. He had found that he actually got a kick from playing around with all the bedraggled wooden furniture. He was using different types of transfiguration, a subject he had always found interesting at school (although sometimes this interest was rather reluctant considering his attitude towards the teacher at that time). But tweaking certain spells and moulding the furniture into what he wanted was strangely satisfying. His latest project had been reconstructing some chairs to go around the dining table he had finished a few days earlier.

A dreamy haze had fallen over the house. Sometimes Draco even forgot that there was a war going on outside and that they were supposed to be involved in it. He occasionally caught Hermione gazing sadly out the kitchen window when they were doing the washing up, and he knew she was wondering where her two friends were and if they were safe. But by some sort of unspoken rule neither of them mentioned Potter or Weasley by name, as if speaking about them would disrupt their private little sanctuary. He still had stormy visions in his sleep of what he'd witnessed as a temporary Death Eater, but now they seemed almost blurry and indistinct. It was soothing just to sink into the warmth of Hermione's body curled up next to him on that dusty old couch rather than allow himself to succumb to his nightmares.

But despite this seeming haven of bliss they had settled into, there was one thing that was still troubling Draco. As the days crept by, it began to play on his mind more and more, leaving him feeling restless and distracted. He had been sleeping with Hermione on that old couch every night since they had arrived. He had kissed her lightly a few times to say goodnight, boldly stealing pleasure from those moments when they were both tired and unguarded.

But sweet Salazar he wanted more.

Hermione had this way of bounding around the house in her muggle jeans spotted with crusty flecks of paint, with her hair wrapped into a long messy braid slung over one shoulder. He thought she might be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He spent hours of each day either thinking about her while he worked or watching her at her own tasks. It was driving him mad. The smiles and the breathy laughter and those big brown eyes looking at him like he was actually worth something. Like he was something good. He couldn't remember the last time someone had held such pure, artless affection in their gaze for him. The force of her personality took his breath away; she was fiercely intelligent and powerful, and yet she doubted herself. She could be downright timid and vulnerable at times. And sometimes when she caught him staring at her, this bashful little blush would rise in her cheeks and she would avert her eyes with a nervous lick of her lips. He could only imagine the ferocious intensity she saw in his eyes given the direction of his thoughts in those moments. The fact that he could make her so nervous with just a look triggered a primal heat in his gut; a need to draw out her passion and make her feel as flustered as he felt on a daily basis.

And if something didn't snap soon then he was going to have to abandon their couch and sleep in the cold tiled bathtub upstairs from now on, because waking up pressed against the curve of her hip made him so hard it was almost painful. He felt like he was wandering around in a state of almost constant arousal, overwhelmed by her heady scent. The aroma of lavender and honey pervaded every inch of the house now, and Draco longed desperately to strip the clothing from her body and press his lips to her skin to see if she tasted just as good. But he had vowed to himself that he would wait until she was ready. Until he could wipe away her memories of him at school so that she knew exactly who he was now and what she was getting herself into.

On this particular evening, he had just put some finishing touches on the heavy oak dining table when he made his way to the kitchen. He could hear Hermione softly humming to herself. Draco stood completely immobile for a few minutes just watching her move around. She had started cooking some dinner and was patiently chopping the ingredients by hand. He'd asked her once why she didn't just use magic but she had given him a secret little smile and told him that the food just didn't taste as real if she didn't prepare it herself. Eventually Hermione looked up to see him standing there, the usual flush appearing in her cheeks.

"You gave me a fright, Draco," she said with a laugh, "I should get you a bell or something – like a cat!"

Draco smirked and let his eyes trace the curve of her throat as she took a sip from her glass of wine. He liked the way her nose crinkled up when she drank red wine but how white wine made her eyes go a bit dreamy as she licked every droplet from her lips. Tonight it was the latter. Some force greater than Draco's self-control compelled him to ask a question that had been bothering him ever since they had arrived here, that had prevented him from acting on his desires all this time. He cleared his throat but did not move from his position leaning against the doorway.

"Do you regret coming here with me?"

He wasn't surprised when she dropped the chopping knife she had been holding and it clattered against the kitchen counter.

"What? Draco-" Before she could stammer out a hasty denial, he interrupted her and continued.

"I know you think you willingly chose this, Hermione, and I know you didn't want the Order to take me away. I get it. And believe me when I say I really appreciate it. But do you ever wish I'd just never turned up in your life again? That I'd never surrendered myself to the Order in the first place? You could have stayed with your friends…"

He let the thought stand alone, dropping his eyes to the haphazard array of vegetables, half-sliced on the counter but now momentarily forgotten. Before he knew what was happening, Hermione was standing in front of him and gazing at him with those endless brown eyes that seemed to be beseeching him for some kind of explanation.

"Draco, why are you asking me this? What made you even think such a thing?"

Draco sighed and ran his hand nervously through his hair. It really didn't help that she looked so fucking beautiful standing in the fading orange light coming in dappled rays through the kitchen window, highlighting the flecks of gold in her irises.

"This may sound selfish, but I really don't want you to end up resenting me. I don't know what I would do if you came to hate me for all the trouble I've caused you."

Hermione blinked up at him, her head cocking to the side as if she were trying to work out a difficult puzzle.

"I do sometimes wish I was still with the boys," she admitted in a sad whisper and he felt his heart clench briefly, before she powered on with a stubborn frown of determination, "But I certainly don't regret what's happened. I could never regret being here with you. That's the only thing that actually makes any sense."

Draco groaned, half in pleasure at her response and half in agony. They were standing so close now that he was able to lean forwards and press his forehead against hers. He could feel that her breathing had sped up from the rapid puffs of hot air against his cheek.

"Why do you have to make this so difficult?" he croaked, breathing in the smell of lavender and feeling his eyes go out of focus a bit.

"Difficult?" she mumbled vaguely and he clenched his hands into tight fists to stop himself from pulling her closer into him.

"I promised myself I would wait until you were ready," he explained in a voice that sounded strained and hoarse, "I wanted to be patient and give you more time to see the real me without any of the other bullshit getting in the way. But bloody hell, Hermione, I want to kiss you so much right now. I want to do a lot more than kiss you."

Through bleary eyes he saw Hermione stare at him in shock, before a shiver passed through her body. She leaned back so she could observe him properly. Draco lifted his hands and tentatively placed them on her shoulders, sliding one up to brush a flake of dried paint from her cheek.

"I already know the real you, Draco. I saw it that night in the hospital wing so long ago and it's never left me."

Draco's navel twitched with a visceral reaction to her words. She wasn't cringing or shrinking back from his obvious desire and it was taking all his strength not to kiss her like a madman.

"I've thought about you every day since then," he confessed, his hand now toying with the braid that was slung loosely over one shoulder, "You're embedded into every fibre of my being, Hermione, and I could no more stop loving you than I could stop breathing."

Her gasp of surprise was lost as he finally pressed his lips to hers. Hermione whimpered a bit against his mouth at the sudden force of his desire but she quickly melted against him and returned his ardour with equal passion. Draco kissed her mouth first, quite thoroughly, and then every part of her upper body that was exposed to his greedy lips. Spinning them around swiftly, he pressed her against the wall with his lower body, returning to her mouth to kiss her senseless. Hermione breathed heavily and her head rolled back with a soft thunk against the doorjamb as his lips moved down once more to explore the hollow of her neck. He nibbled at the slender length of her throat, darting his tongue out to lick at her skin. She tasted even more divine than he had imagined in his turbulent fantasies. Like honey mixed with sharper spices of cinnamon and peppermint. He could hardly wrap his mind around it, except to resolve to taste every inch of her.

Draco felt a tugging at his hair and gladly allowed Hermione to pull him back up to her lips. She kissed him urgently, her mouth opening against his to taste each other. He felt rather than heard the vibration of her throaty moan as they kissed, heat scalding his stomach as he released his own strained sounds. Draco parted quickly from her and they panted in unison. As they were trying desperately to get their breath back, Hermione blinked up at him with a look of near wonderment at the realisation of the strength of his desire. The evidence was pressed, hard and throbbing, against her navel. Feeling fatalistic, he allowed himself the grim pleasure of stroking against her once or twice, feeling her curves against his cock before he drew her bottom lip between his in a final parting kiss.

"Sweet Merlin," he groaned against her lips in a husky whisper, "I can't seem to control myself around you. We need to stop…"

"Why?" Hermione asked softly, and he wanted to kiss her wildly all over again for the innocent question.

"Because I'm getting carried away," he told her, running his hands up her arms to grasp her face. He traced the shape of her swollen lips before dropping his forehead against hers once more, "And you deserve better."

Hermione shook her head numbly. She slid her hands over his chest, toying with the bit of skin exposed by his shirt.

"I want you, Draco. Please let's just get carried away together…"

Her words washed over him like hot water and he felt that heat trace up his spine until he was arching against her again.

"Have you done this before? Any of this?" he asked in a voice that was barely more than a croak. She reddened at his question, and Draco saw her chew on her bottom lip as she contemplated him. Despite this, her pupils remained wide and dark with longing.

"Some…not much though. Not everything," she explained, stumbling over her words a bit, and Draco was pleased she didn't elaborate any further. He really didn't want to picture someone like that big oaf Viktor Krum pawing at her. He wasn't sure whether to be terrified or thrilled that she was still a virgin, though. He swallowed and licked his lips. They still tasted like her. But a small niggling doubt in the back of his mind lingered. He was still worried despite everything that she would come to regret this if they rushed.

"I don't think you really know what you're getting into, Hermione," he told her in a low voice, leaning down to place open mouthed kisses across her jaw and down her throat between each sentence he uttered. She shivered and prickled under the feel of his lips and his hot breath against her skin. "I want to kiss you everywhere. I want to strip every piece of clothing from your body. I want to feel you clench around my fingers, and taste how wet you are on my tongue. And then I want to bury myself inside you."

He thought there was a serious possibility that she would be scared off by his words, as he wanted to warn her by conveying the extent of what he was craving. But Hermione surprised him again. With a fierce look in her eyes, she placed an achingly slow kiss on his lips before sliding one hand down his chest and over his stomach to trace his hard length through his trousers. Draco grunted softly and dropped his head against the wall behind her shoulder, pressing into her and screwing his eyes shut tight.

"What are you waiting for then?" she challenged.

"Are you sure?" he panted, needing one last confirmation that he could finally touch her and make her his, all his other reservations crumbling around him.

"Please…"

And this was the final straw for him. Hearing her breathy plea and knowing that she ached for this almost as much as he did roused him into action. Draco grasped her thighs and, without warning, lifted her into his arms. Hermione made a small sound of surprise but quickly wrapped her legs around his waist. Kissing her frantically now, Draco made short work of striding over to their dusty little couch in the front room. He lowered himself onto it, letting Hermione sit astride on top of him. She looked stunning above him, like a fiery siren hungering just for him. He kissed her as if he might die from the want of her lips, grappling with her clothes as he did. With surprising efficiency he slipped the shirt and bra from her body, exposing her breasts. He immediately took one rosy pink nipple into his mouth, sucking on it until she cried out and arched against him. At the sensation of his mouth on her, Hermione dropped her weight completely on top of him, grinding down unconsciously against his hard cock. Draco felt it throb impatiently and he grit his teeth to stem the need to come like a third year in his pants.

"Stop that," he begged when she continued to writhe on top of him. Hermione froze at his words but then gave him a smile drugged with power. She shifted her hips again deliberately to torment him. Draco's eyes rolled back into his head before he snapped them open, feeling half deranged with lust.

"Get up. Take off your jeans."

If she was offended by his commands then she didn't say so. And the sting was lessened by the fact that his voice did not sound particularly forceful, just desperate. She just smirked sinfully and stood before him. Draco watched her intently as she unbuttoned and unzipped herself, dragging her trousers and underwear down and off. At the same time he tried to scramble with his own clothes, pulling them from his body hastily and throwing them away to Merlin knew where. When Hermione returned to his lap, he could hardly bear the feel of her warm skin all over him. He wouldn't last.

Shifting slightly, Draco slid her off him to the side, spreading her out on the couch beneath him. He observed her heatedly for a moment, but hastened to fulfil all his earlier promises to her. He needed this. He had been in a constant state of yearning ever since that night over a year ago in the hospital wing when she had let him kiss her, her soft lips soothing him like a balm to his broken spirit. She had been an almost ethereal, healing angel in his mind since then. They had become connected in every way but one now. And he longed to take this final step and have her surround him completely.

The room went sort of fuzzy as he explored her body meticulously. His hand traced up her inner thigh, one finger stroking across her pink flesh and finding her so wet he actually groaned out loud.

"Fuck, Hermione, you feel so good."

He murmured the words against her breast as he kissed the peak there and drew it into his mouth at the same time as he began circling her swollen clit. Hermione's mouth opened into a silent gasp as she stared up at the ceiling groggily, her hands gripping the plush material of the couch.

"Draco-"

Needing to feel her, Draco twisted his hand and lowered his finger to her entrance while he continued pleasuring her with his thumb. He entered her slowly with one finger, feeling how silky and tight she was around his digit. He wasn't sure who moaned louder. Hermione threw her head back while he buried his face into her chest and panted from the need to be inside her.

Adding a second finger, Draco allowed her to relax and stretch a bit around its width before he withdrew swiftly. He relished the whimper she released as she fumbled to grasp his hand and pull him back to her.

"I want to taste you," he murmured as he swatted her hand away, and felt her body tense underneath him. All too soon he had slid his body down hers and pressed his tongue against her wet centre. Hermione shuddered.

"Oh…ah…Dra…mm…oo…" her noises were incoherent; although he thought maybe he heard his name in there somewhere. Draco hummed in pleasure, getting lost in the taste and feel of her as he sucked and licked her most intimate area. He allowed one finger to lazily enter her again while he drew her clit into his mouth. It was all over surprisingly fast, he thought. As soon as he crooked his finger inside her and gave a particularly strong pull at her clit with the edge his teeth and tongue, she was lost. Hermione came with a sharp groan, her hands jerking up to grasp at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. All Draco heard was the rushing of blood in his ears and the faint sound of his name dripping urgently from her lips as though from a great distance. He dropped his head against her stomach, trying to ignore the pulsing of his cock against the cushion beneath him, not daring to move an inch.

Feeling her come on his tongue with her muscles clamping down around his finger had been the best sensation of his life. He would even be happy if she said she wasn't ready to go further now, although certain parts of his body were arguing quite strenuously with that thought. But he needn't have worried. He felt Hermione's fingers running through his hair, her fingernails tingling against his scalp and he lifted his head. She had a satisfied grin on her face and her eyes were piercing and needy.

"Holy shit," she muttered with a slight hint of awe, and Draco chuckled against her hipbone.

"You were sensational," he told her and enjoyed the blush on her face, which was apparent even though her cheeks were already a lovely shade of pink, "Hermione, I need you…"

She obviously heard the tone of want that tinged his voice and she grappled with his shoulders to tug him up towards her. Draco kissed her with unbridled passion. His arms were trembling as he wrapped them around her in order to hold onto the last remnants of his self-control. She frowned a bit at the taste of herself on his lips, but kissed him once more softly, drawing his bottom lip between her teeth.

"Don't you dare ask me if I'm sure again," she murmured against his mouth, her eyes raging with emotion. Draco choked out a relieved sigh. He nodded numbly and shifted to spread her legs wider beneath him, lowering himself into the cradle of her hips. He didn't need to check whether she was ready, he could feel how wet she was when he slid against her. As he held himself there on the precipice of bliss, Draco felt butterflies erupt in his stomach. His throat was dry and scratchy as he swallowed. His cock throbbed against her. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed in anticipation. He paused.

"Hermione…" he muttered through clenched teeth, "eyes on me. I want to see you."

She blinked but did as he asked, returning his stare with those soulful brown eyes so wide and trusting. His hips jerked forwards covetously. With his last speck of self-awareness he pressed his palm to her lower stomach and muttered a protection charm.

"Hold onto my shoulders. I want you to tell me if it hurts too much," Hermione wrapped her arms around him and her fingers dug into his upper back once again, "are you ready for me?"

At her nod, Draco finally pushed gently into her wet heat until the length of him was fully sheathed inside her. Although she was tight he met only slight resistance and Hermione's gasp was more one of surprise than pain. She blinked dazedly up at him at the sensation of being completely filled. Draco felt something dark and primal inside him at the feeling of her walls squeezing him. He froze for an impossibly long time, realising that he was already short of breath and he hadn't even started moving yet. He just wanted to bask in the exquisite feeling of being joined with Hermione. He could feel her all around him, slick and tight and so beautiful his heart was pounding like a drum beat against his ribs. She would surely feel it where their chests were pressing together.

Before he could compose himself, Draco felt Hermione thrust her hips upwards slightly to take him deeper, her eyes demanding more.

"My little lioness is eager…" he mumbled wryly, trying to focus his thoughts back onto her face instead of becoming lost in the tight grip of her legs which were entwined around his back and attempting to pull him in further, "You're making it very difficult for me to go slow, Hermione," he scolded her gently, placing a series of slightly messy, urgent kisses all across her lips and neck.

"Please move!" she begged, and her squirming finally got the best of him, especially as a low whine escaped her throat and vibrated against skin where they touched. Draco pulled back out and thrust in a few more times, listening to her breath hitch each time he bottomed out inside her.

"Fuck, Hermione, you're so tight...it feels…" his words ended on an incoherent groan. He propped himself upright, looking down on where they were joined with a stare of disbelief as her legs tightened around him.

"Faster-"

He could not deny her anything, especially when she begged with such a pretty little moan. He started relentlessly pumping in and out of her, his hands wandering in heated excitement over her body, teasing her nipples and clit as his thrusts quickened. It was like an instant rush of addiction. Draco was normally a silver-tongued prince of Slytherin capable of some degree of eloquence no matter the situation. But now he lost track of where his mouth was running. He was distantly aware that his brain had just disengaged in this way, as words quickly poured from his lips. He told her she was beautiful using an endless catalogue of synonyms to do so. And as her walls began to tighten and spasm around him, his language deteriorated into coarseness. He let out a very long strings of swear words when she threw her head back, her walls milking him as she came. She was almost screaming now, a jumble of drawn out sounds and his name over and over. He was sure it was the most erotic sound he would ever hear. Draco gripped her hips so hard that if he were more in control of himself he would worry about bruising her. He succumbed to the burning heat in his balls and thrust into her one last time, deep enough to coat her walls with his seed with every pulse of his cock.

"Hermione…fuck…fuck…"

Finally spent and still groaning her name on repeat, Draco collapsed. Still panting, he had enough sense to roll to the side to avoid crushing her. But Hermione didn't seem to mind; she just wrapped her arms around him and drew him closer. By the time he got his breathing relatively under control he could feel her hands stroking indolently through his hair and he blearily opened his eyes to meet her equally dazed stare.

Holy shit.

Draco hadn't realised that sex could be like that. More than just a physical release but a truly meaningful connection between two souls merging into one. He had never before felt comfortable enough to just lose himself completely in another person, needing their pleasure just as much if not more than his own. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to Salazar that he had lasted long enough to feel her tighten and come on his cock. Now his groin was aching and wet and he'd never felt better in his life.

"Is it always like that?" she asked sleepily. Draco snorted.

"Hell no. That was…"

He trailed off, unable to find words that seemed sufficient enough to convey what he was feeling. Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully and nodded.

"I didn't expect it to be so…easy," she said. Draco cocked an eyebrow up at her, feeling a bit confused by the term. She blushed and shrugged self-consciously, "I mean for my first time."

He felt a wave of understanding and reached up to smooth her tangled curls off her face. They had escaped her braid some time ago and were spilling wildly over the couch.

"I didn't hurt you?" he inquired gently and Hermione shook her head.

"I expected it to hurt. Girls always say that about their first time. But…it just felt…strange at first, and then wonderful."

Draco grinned smugly, earning himself a smack on the shoulder. He gave her a quick peck on the lips and then sobered.

"Hermione, I have wanted to do that to you for a very long time."

"Have you really felt that way since fifth year?"

He nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious, but Hermione just snuggled in close to him and lifted a hand to stroke reassuring patterns on the skin of his chest.

"I always knew that something had changed that night, inside me as well. After that we became…bound to each other somehow."

Draco hummed in agreement. But a lot of his concentration had moved to the finger tracing imaginary lines on his skin, trailing down further over the muscles of his stomach and across his hip. He felt himself twitch and harden a bit in response to her wandering hand. He wondered how he could feel such a rush of desire so soon after spending himself inside her. But this was clearly outside his normal experience.

"What now?" Hermione asked, her voice quiet and a little bit hoarse from screaming as it interrupted his straying thoughts.

"Now…" Draco smirked and grabbed her hand, lifting it to his mouth where he proceeded to kiss each of her fingertips, "Now I get to explore."

Hermione chuckled as he sucked one digit into his mouth, twisting her body around more to face him.

"Explore what?"

"You."

And then he was lifting her up on top of him and pressing his mouth to her skin with no thought in the world other than the pure unadulterated need to lose himself in Hermione Granger all over again until they were both exhausted and sated. He planned to stay up all night achieving this.

….

….

….

Well…there you go. Hope you enjoyed your lemons, as it always feels slightly awkward writing them. More plot to come in the next offering. Please review.