Severus did not like the portrait after life. Nothing enticed him about being either confined to his own portrait, simple with only a wingback chair, or confined to other portraits– filled with bumbling idiots just begging for conversation.
He didn't think he had ever despised it more than he did now though, as he trudged through portrait after portrait at the various homes he believed Theodore Nott might be hiding in. Severus was quiet when he was alive. Speaking only when necessary. He was also a spy, so he inserted himself into as many different facets of Voldemort's regime as he possibly could in an effort to learn valuable information. This earned Severus a place, so to speak, in many different Pureblood households. He held a place in portraits hung at estates across the European continent.
As Severus stepped into the next portrait, he frowned, not immediately recognizing the sight before him. The room had been changed, the walls were white, a fresh coat of paint had obviously been applied. The floors gleamed, polished so that an individual could see their reflection in it. The portrait next to the one he currently occupied seemed to have been recently dusted, as there was no layer of grime to be found.
The things I do for my Godson.
When Hermione Granger sprinted toward his portrait in late December with her eyes wide in alarm, Severus nearly faked another death. He believed he'd done his part in assisting them in navigating the bond, but when she asked for his help, "for Draco, not for me," how could he decline? The little shite was his to care for, after all, duty and all of that.
So, he searched. Portrait, after portrait, after portrait. Obviously, the Nott and Parkinson estates were first as he wanted to mark those off of his list. Theodore Nott never struck Severus as unintelligent, so he knew the boy would not take the Parkinson girl where they would easily be found. Since then, he'd searched nearly fifty other estates– staying in each portrait for long enough to observe if there was any activity at each, and who was present. The estates were old, and most of the families had abandoned them after the war; lines either died off, or the owner was in Azkaban.
Until today, it would seem.
A noise sounded from the left, the doorway to the receiving parlour he currently sat in two dimension was open to a hall. Whoever was coming was angry, that much was clear from the cadence of their voice. It was feminine, a bit higher in pitch than typical, and– ah, there it was. A sly smile crept at the corner of Severus' mouth.
Parkinson.
Her voice became clearer as she entered the room, followed swiftly by none other than Theodore Nott.
"This is absolutely ridiculous, Theodore–"
"Don't call me that, Pansy. You know how I feel about–"
"I don't give a centaur's shite how you feel, Theodore , I know you lied to me."
"Would you have come if you had known the truth, Pansy? I didn't have a choice. Draco left me no choice," The Nott boy pleaded.
"Of course I wouldn't have come with you. You are delusional if you think for one second that if I had known you trapped Hermione Granger– Draco's sodding soulmate – in her mind with a magical curse that I would ever trust you again," Severus watched as Parkinson's hands balled into fists, her chin raised in defiance.
"Why do you care so much about Hermione, Pansy? You used to tease and bully the girl right along with Draco. How many times did you call her mudblood , Pansy?" Parkinson flinched at Nott's casual use of the slur.
"This is not even about Granger, Theo. Or Draco, for that matter. This is about us. You know what Draco means to me. You know what I went through with him– how difficult it was to try and love him, and to feel so unloved in return– and how much I cherish the relationship I have with him now. Knowing all of that, you hurt me, Theo."
"I–"
"This isn't something you can talk your way out of. Draco is being held by the ministry until your sorry arse is found and questioned. I know, Theo. Granger's little otter told me everything. Looks like your precious unplottable homes are not so unplottable. Just stop all of this and give me my wand and let me go." Parkinson spoke darkly, her cheeks were splotched with red, the anger visible in every part of her.
Sighing in relief, Severus turned to exit the portrait. Only two portrait stops before he would return to Hogwarts where he could inform Minerva of his findings.
XXX
May 11, 1999, Ministry of Magic:
"Silence!" Hermione listened as the Chief Warlock, Amelia Bones, stood. Her fists banged against the podium in the newly renovated Wizengamot trial chambers. "I will have order, or I will hold you all in contempt of this Wizengamot court proceeding."
The Chief Warlock scanned the crowd, observing the reaction of each and every spectator present. Hermione understood why they were all here; they wanted to see Theodore Nott, the son of a famed Death Eater, pay for his crimes against her, the muggleborn third of the "Golden Trio". Hermione nearly rolled her eyes at the thought, but controlled herself.
Over the past several months, she practised her occlumency skills each day, twice a day. Her mind was stronger, and her defences were up, ready to fight off any intruder. The upside of the more than difficult skill though was slightly unexpected. Hermione wasn't sure why it surprised her– she knew Draco employed the skill often– but when she finally succeeded in shielding her emotions from public view, and focusing her mind on neutrality, she marvelled at how level-headed she felt for the first time in her life. Her mind was clear, not clouded by the emotions she often felt overruled her rationality.
Leaving Draco in their shared dream months ago was one of the hardest decisions Hermione had ever made, but her new skills helped her stick to her decision. She knew logically that until Draco could be freed, she would need to maintain a sense of calm and order. Something in her very soul told her that it would all work out in the end, but her heart hurt at the thought of Draco, alone, in a cell. When she felt the echo of his despair when they awoke from the dream, she nearly collapsed.
"Trust your magic," She had been told over and over in regard to her bond with Draco. For once, Hermione complied. She allowed the surety in her soul to push her through, and now she was here, ready to watch Theo's questioning under veritaserum , and subsequent sentencing. There was no question of his guilt. Harry had reassured her of that countless times since she'd allowed the DMLE to view her memories. Today was simply a formality, questioning him for the record, and for proper severity of sentencing.
"Auror Potter, you apprehended the subject and placed him in Ministry custody. Please administer the veritaserum and I will begin questioning," quiet murmurs began to flow throughout the room, but the volume remained acceptable for the proceedings. Hermione watched as Harry approached Theo, sitting in a simple wooden chair with his wrists and ankles magically bound to the arms and legs, respectively. When Theo did not resist, Hermione's eyebrows raised in surprise. Harry tipped the vial up, and the thick liquid spilled into Theo's mouth. Hermione was startled when she saw Theo wink at Harry. Harry's hand twitched and nearly spilled some of the veritaserum on Theo's chin.
What is he playing at?
"Thank you, Auror Potter," The Chief Warlock dismissed Harry, who walked back toward the doors to the chamber to reclaim his position with the other aurors.
"Theodore, when were you born?" The Chief Warlock began, a baseline question.
"First of June, 1980," Theo spoke, voice even.
"In December 1998, did you send a package to the Malfoy estate, containing a book wrapped in cursed ribbon, Theodore?"
"I decline to answer."
What?
"You are under veritaserum, prisoner Nott, answer the question," The Chief Warlock glared at Theo.
"I decline to answer," Theo stated a second time.
What in the fuck?
Hermione's mind raced as the Chief Warlock asked another question.
"Did you curse Hermione Granger, trapping her in her own mind, Theodore?"
"I decline to answer," Theo stated again, this time a bit louder.
"This is complete shite!" Ron bellowed from his spot in the spectator's section. Hermione watched as Ginny grasped his arm and pulled him to sit next to her and the elder Weasley's. Narcissa sat, regal as ever, beside Andromeda in the next row over.
"I will not warn you a second time, silence!" The Chief Warlock's voice echoed through the room. She turned to face Theo again, a contemplative look on her face.
"Prisoner Nott, are you skilled in Occlumency?"
Hermione deflated, the realisation hitting her like a bludger.
He's a fucking Occlumens.
I just want Draco freed, Gods dammit.
The veritaserum would not work. And for the Wizengamot court to view Theo's memories, he would have to be willing to share, or they would need to find a skilled Legilimens to perform the task of extracting the proper memories without his consent.
"I am, Chief Warlock," Theo nearly purred and smiled, and for the first time in their acquaintance, Hermione felt it was sinister.
The Chief Warlock stepped back from the podium, her mouth thinned into a single line. She was clearly displeased, and Hermione wondered where she would lead the proceedings from here. She watched, observing the crowd's reactions. No one was pleased, it would seem. She viewed several red-faced individuals who seemed hardly able to remain seated at the revelation. When the Chief Warlock approached the podium once more, the eerie silence unnerved Hermione.
"Theodore Nott, are you unwilling to comply with questioning by this court under veritaserum?"
"Yes, I decline to answer any and all questions posed by the court," Theo began, "I might, however, be persuaded to allow a Legilimens to view my memories, without resistance,"
A twist Hermione had not expected. Why would Theo–
"But," he added, "I want the best, you see. I will only allow Draco Malfoy to perform this task on behalf of the court," Gasps were heard throughout the room. Only a select number of individuals were privy to the information about Draco and Hermione's bond, the Chief Warlock included. The other's present likely simply enjoyed the shock value of the declaration.
"As you are well aware, Draco Malfoy is in Ministry custody and cannot–"
"Oh, but he can. He's a proficient Occlumens. Draco trained under Bellatrix Lestrange, Severus Snape, and probably Lord fucking Voldemort. I want Draco, or you get nothing," Theo spat. The entire chamber seemed to flinch at his casual use of the word "Lord".
The Chief Warlock and Theo seemed to stare at one another for what felt like an eternity. A smirk crept up Theo's face and Hermione knew he had won. The Chief Warlock turned and spoke in hushed tones with the auror who stood guard behind her. He nodded several times before he walked toward the other aurors. When he approached Harry, Hermione's eyes widened.
They're really going to do it.
Her heart rate picked up, rapidly coursing through her veins and pulsing at her temples. Hermione hadn't been allowed to see Draco since the day he was taken– their shared dream was the only contact they had– she had told him when they were reunited, Theo would be in Azkaban.
Oh, how wrong you were, Hermione.
XXX
May 11, 1999, Ministry of Magic:
Draco jumped from his position on the floor when he heard a voice he recognized, finally.
Potter.
It had been months, Draco approximated, since he'd seen Hermione in their shared dream. Since then he had no other contact with anyone aside from a simple meeting with his solicitor to affirm that the Ministry had the right to hold him, per his broken contract. To keep active, he spent every day doing muggle exercises he read about in one of Blaise's magazine's. Draco had grown quite strong, and even the guards looked at him oddly when they visited.
A familiar voice, at a time he was not expecting any visitor– for food or cleaning charms– was not ordinary. A voice at all, really. The wards were thick, and Draco wondered why the silencing charm had been removed. When the opaque sheen that shielded his view of the hall outside of his cell disappeared, Draco was staring at Harry Potter and another auror he did not recognize.
"Potter, what–"
"Malfoy. We don't have time for pleasantries, or for me to really properly explain, but you're needed in the Wizengamot chambers. You've been… requested, to perform legilimency in questioning Theo Nott," Potter's brow held firm in a tight line as he pushed his glasses up his nose.
What in the everloving fuck did I miss?
"You're telling me that the Wizengamot wants me to perform legilimency, the same charm that resulted in my current imprisonment, on Theo?" Draco stared, incredulous.
"Not exactly," Potter cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest, "He is the one who requested you. He's otherwise been uncooperative. Theo is an–"
" Occlumens , I know," Draco finished.
"You what ? How did you– why didn't you say anything!" Potter raised his voice slightly above what would be considered respectable for an auror.
Draco rolled his eyes. Potter was as daft as ever.
"It's not as if I've had any visitors, Potter. Who would I tell?" Draco deadpanned.
"Right," Potter shifted, "Well, regardless, we need to go. The court proceeding is still in session and they're waiting for you."
"Is she there, Potter?" Draco asked, voice a bit softer.
Potter seemed to size him up, taking in his ragged appearance after weeks of no proper showers, haircut, or a shave. Who knew a Malfoy could grow a beard?
"Yes, of course–"
"I'll do it, on one condition," Draco demanded.
"Bloody Slytherin's and your conditions ," Potter scoffed.
"I don't want Granger in that room. It's complicated, but I don't want her there–" Draco paused, remembering her words, "And when you are free, Draco Malfoy, I will tell you I told you so. And when that is done, we will complete our bond and I will not hear any arguments from you."
Draco had plenty of time to think after Hermione left him in their dream. He wallowed in his own self-pity for approximately one week before he realised what an absolute wanker he had been. He didn't want Hermione to take anymore blame on herself, especially not for the condition he was currently in. No, when he saw Hermione again, he wanted to be whole.
"She won't take that well, Malfoy," Potter gave him a knowing look.
"Obviously, but it's my condition," Draco shot back.
Potter mulled over his ask for a few seconds before responding.
"Let's go, I'll likely have to stun her," Potter's eyes rolled, "She might like the beard though, if you clean it up," Potter snarked and Draco laughed. He felt one step closer to the future he envisioned now when he meditated, his future with Hermione. Each time he immersed himself in the dream, he felt a sense of calm and rightness that told him it was not just a dream, but what his future would actually look like with Hermione by his side.
Peace.
XXX
May 12, 1999, Ministry of Magic:
"Ronald, it's been ages. It's four in the morning. What could Theo possibly have to show Draco that would take this long? What is taking so bloody long," Hermione groaned. Her head thumped against the wall behind her and she winced. She had remained seated on the floor in the hall outside of the Wizengamot chambers. Harry had removed her, forcibly, from chambers when she refused to leave. She'd never been stunned before and it was not pleasant.
"I don't know, Mione. Have a little faith in your soulmate, yeah?" Ron grinned at her. He'd followed Harry and Hermione's stunned, levitating, body out of chambers and stuck by her side since. She'd never been more thankful to have Ron as a friend, his humour distracted her when she needed it most.
"Ron, stop," Hermione giggled, slightly delirious, "I didn't tell you that so that you could say it at every possible opportunity."
"I can't help it, Mione. It's just too bloody good– you and Malfoy, soulmates–" Ron brought a fist up to cover his mouth, stifling his laughter the best he could.
"Alright, I get it. I really do, but he brings out a side of me that I didn't know existed. Willing to compromise, number one, and willing to try new things–"
"Like flying?" Ron waggled his eyebrows and Hermione's cheeks flamed.
"Ronald Weasley, I don't know what–"
"Oh come off it, Hermione, Ginny drunkenly told me and Harry after remembrance day," He laughed so loud it echoed off the stone and Hermione thought she could crawl into a hole.
"Fucking Ginevra," Hermione mumbled.
"I thought it was fucking Malfoy under the quidditch stands–"
Hermione lunged at Ron. Her hand shot up to cover his mouth and keep him from continuing that sentence.
"Ron, honestly!" Hermione laughed, the entire situation was ridiculous, and for a moment Hermione forgot where she was, and why she was there.
Hermione removed her hand from his mouth and sat back, laughter still bubbling out of her. When it subsided, she turned to look at Ron, sobering, remembering. His hand reached for hers and he gripped it firmly.
"It'll be over soon, Hermione. All of it."
Hermione woke up with a start, and the door next to her and Ron banged open. Harry's head peeked into the hall and he looked around till his eyes landed on them seated on the floor. Hermione stood, hesitant, waiting for Harry to speak. She wrung her hands together nervously, then began pulling at her cuticles.
"You can come back in now," Harry said, voice tired. Dark bags lay heavy under his eyes, and Hermione was screaming inside, wanting desperately to know what happened. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Harry held up a hand, stopping her, "There's no time, Hermione. He's not in here right now, so don't ask."
Hermione let out the breath she was holding.
You can do this, Hermione, get yourself together.
She closed her eyes and imagined the same beach she'd stood on each time she practised. She watched the waves come in and out, and with them, her worries– thoughts, feelings– any attachment washed far out to sea.
When she opened her eyes again, Hermione was ready. She nodded at Harry, who then ushered her and Ron inside. He pointed Ron to his same seat beside his family, and escorted Hermione up to her spot as an involved party. She was shocked, however, when she looked up to find that the seat next to hers was now occupied by none other than Pansy Parkinson.
Hermione hadn't seen Pansy since she and Theo were found, and didn't think Pansy would be present today either.
What in Merlin's name?
Hermione smiled softly at Pansy, who returned the gesture and patted the seat next to her. When she sat, Hermione stiffened as a hand reached for hers and held it tightly.
Pansy leaned into her and whispered, "We're part of a club, you know? It's a special one, really. It's reserved for those who love Draco sodding Malfoy, and who were violated by Theodore Nott," Pansy sniffed, choking on the end of her statement. Hermione's eyes widened and she squeezed Pansy's hand in return, skimming along her cold skin with the pad of her thumb in a soothing motion. Pansy's eyes pinched shut, holding back tears.
What did Theo do to Pansy?
Hermione's mind ran wild with possibilities, but she was interrupted when the Chief Warlock's voice filled the chamber. Hermione's eyes scanned the room.
Where is Theo?
"Theodore Nott has been sentenced to life in Azkaban prison, he will remain isolated from these proceedings as a result of his behaviour. All Nott family properties will be seized by the Ministry as there is no successor for Theodore Nott. Following inspection and clearance by the aurors, the properties and contents of the Nott vaults will be distributed to Hermione Jean Granger and Pansy Persephone Parkinson, Nott's victims."
Hermione coughed, then coughed some more. Pansy's hand lay limp in her grasp.
What?
"Miss Granger, are you quite alright?" The Chief Warlock's attention was focused on Hermione and she shifted in embarrassment, clearing her throat.
"Yes, I– that's just not necessary–"
"Allow me to finish," The Chief Warlock continued, "In the matter of Draco Lucius Malfoy, and his use of a prohibited charm in violation of his probationary contract with the Ministry," Hermione held her breath, she hadn't expected for them to address this so quickly after Theo. "This Wizengamot court finds that he is cleared of all wrongdoing. Draco Lucius Malfoy acted to save the life of Hermione Jean Granger, and for that, we are all thankful."
Hermione wasn't breathing. It could not possibly be that simple. Could it? Not after so long, and so many dead ends.
"Miss Granger, if you would please accompany Auror Potter, I believe you have a matter to attend to," The Chief Warlock gave her a knowing look, "Miss Parkinson, please accompany Auror Pucey."
Adrian Pucey is an auror?
Hermione's mind was processing an overload of information and she wasn't quite sure which direction to go first. Luckily, Harry made the decision for her as he approached with his brotherly, Harry, smile. Hermione let go of Pansy with a promise to speak with her later and took Harry's offered hand. She looked for Narcissa as she stood, but was unable to find her.
"You okay, Hermione?" Harry asked as he led her out of the chamber through a smaller side door. When they emerged into a narrow corridor, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"I'm shocked, Harry. I'll be alright. I think I just need to process everything," Hermione allowed Harry to lead her through the corridor and into a lift, smaller than those in the Ministry atrium.
"Where are you taking me?" She finally asked.
"Oh, need to settle some paperwork before you can go," Harry rocked back and forth on his heels, nonchalance oozing from him.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
The lift passed floor after floor until it finally began to slow. Harry cleared his throat and Hermione shifted so that she could look at him.
"I also need to release someone into your custody," Harry spoke softly to her just as the doors to the lift opened. Hermione's heart stuttered, failing to catch up to her anxious excitement.
She turned her gaze forward.
Outside of the lift, leaning against a wall in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, stood Draco.
Or, she assumed it was Draco. She cocked her head in surprise as a smile broke out across her face. She ran, and it was so familiar it nearly hurt, but this time it was real.
Hermione launched herself at Draco and she watched a smile light his face as he caught her in his arms. He held her, legs wrapped around his waist, holding on to him as tight as possible. She buried her face in his neck as he held her to him, whispering over and over, "I'm sorry, I love you, I fucking missed you."
Hermione laughed, an elated and surprised sound tumbled out of her.
"I love you too, and I haven't forgotten, I–"
"Told you so?" Draco finished her thought and Hermione pulled back to look at him, grinning. Her eyes were brimmed with tears of relief.
"Yes, you arsehole," She snarked. She kept her gaze on him, paying no mind to the activity that continued around them as she studied his face intently.
"I like it, I think," Hermione concluded, letting Draco in on her musings. She ran her hand down to his jaw and her fingers through the blonde hair that appeared to be recently trimmed.
"I'm glad you like it," Draco spoke quietly. His forehead pressed to hers and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply.
"Hey you two, take this reunion elsewhere, yeah?" Harry had appeared at their side and Hermione jumped back in Draco's arms as if burned. The look on Harry's face brokered no arguments, he was clearly back on duty. Draco allowed Hermione to slip slowly from his grasp to her feet.
"Um, right, sorry," Hermione fumbled, "We'll just–"
"Yes," Harry said quickly, "Good idea." He cleared his throat one more time before walking toward a row of cubicles.
Draco's hand grabbed hers and he smiled at her once more.
"Let's go home, Granger," Draco looked at her as if he wanted to consume her. Hermione swallowed thickly around what was clearly apprehension. They would have to talk, eventually, but Hermione hoped for now, they could enjoy how right everything was.
"I'd like that, very much," Hermione responded. Draco smiled and tugged her down the longer hallway, toward the lifts to the atrium.
Ding.
When they entered the lift, Hermione turned to watch as the door closed. Her skin was on fire and the fire was their magic.
Hermione gasped in surprise as Draco turned and walked her back, pressing her into the wall of the lift. She looked up to find the same fire she felt echoed in his stare. He bent toward her and pressed a lingering, open mouthed kiss to her neck.
Hermione's magic surged when Draco sucked and licked at her pulse point, she moaned and he pressed his hips to hers, holding firmly.
Later, we can talk later.
XXX
Draco felt as though the burning from the celestial bonding ceremony was back, that's how badly he wanted– needed– to be inside Hermione. He pressed his hips firmly to hers as he sucked at her pulse point, soothing the spot with his tongue after. He gripped his wand in the hand not on her hip and with a simple charm, the lift stopped.
"Draco, what–" Hermione began, but Draco stopped her, instead he kissed her. Consuming her, taking everything she was willing to give him. He missed the feel of her, how her lips moved with his, every tangle of her tongue with his, and her taste.
Gods, her taste.
Draco groaned as she bit his bottom lip and he ground against her. His cock lay hard and heavy in his trousers as he continued to seek friction between them. He dropped his wand and brought his hand up to cup her breast. When he felt no resistance between her thin blouse and her skin, he smiled against her lips. Her nipple hardened against the fabric of her blouse as he swiped his thumb over the sensitive flesh.
Hermione gasped and Draco spoke between swipes of his tongue against hers, "I missed you, missed this." When her hips met his on his next thrust forward, Draco reached for the hem of her skirt, grabbing the material and pulling till he could tuck the material into her waistband. He pressed his hand to her abdomen and muttered a contraceptive charm.
"Gods, yes, please," Hermione whispered between them.
Draco barely restrained himself from vanishing the remainder of their clothing.
"Do you know how many times I got myself off to memories of you, Granger?" He asked, his hand resuming its path down till the tips of his fingers reached the band of her knickers. Hermione made an unintelligible sound in answer, so Draco pulled back from where he had been kissing along her jaw to look at her.
"Fuck, you're fucking perfect, Granger," He growled as he slipped his fingers into her knickers. He ran a finger through her through her folds and spread the wetness gathered at her entrance up to her clit. He pressed lightly and delighted in the shudder that passed over Hermione.
"Please don't make me wait, it's been months, Draco, months of nothing but my memories," Hermione rasped.
Draco watched as her chest heaved, her nipples pebbled against her blouse, clearly visible now. He continued to rub circles over her clit with his thumb and watched her buck into his hand. When he could feel her magic, feel the desperation clinging to her for relief of an ache, he removed his hand and brought both up to lift her against the wall.
Hermione's gaze drifted down to where his cock now pressed firmly against her core through the fabric of her knickers.
Slowly, Draco brought a hand to his trousers, relishing in the way Hermione licked her lips in anticipation. He released the button with ease, and when he pulled the zipper down, Hermione whimpered. He reached into his shorts and freed his cock. Hermione ground roughly against him and he hissed at the sensation. He already felt close to coming, the magic of the bond felt uncharacteristically strong and he wondered if it was because they had been separated for so long.
"Tell me what you want, Hermione," Draco whispered against her lips, his cock now fisted in his grip between them.
"Please, Draco, inside me, I want you inside me," She moaned as he bit down on the skin between her neck and shoulder.
Without prompting, Hermione reached between them and with a wandless spell, vanished her knickers.
"Mm," Draco mumbled against her neck, "you're still so good for me, aren't you."
Hermione gasped and her hips thrust forward. He slipped through her folds easily, she was positively dripping.
Aware that they were still in a Ministry lift and likely only had around ten more minutes until they were "rescued" from a broken lift, Draco guided his cock to her entrance and pressed slowly inside her.
The fire instantly dissipated into a slow burn along his spine. He tipped his head back to watch Hermione's face as she stretched around him.
"Beautiful," He groaned as he bottomed out inside her.
Hermione whined, a beautiful sound, and brought a hand up to cradle his head, holding him to her as he began to pump inside of her. Each drag of his cock inside her found her fluttering around him, already close. He captured her lips again and worked his tongue into her mouth at the same rhythm he currently stroked inside her cunt.
His hand snaked between them and he found her clit with his thumb again, knowing that after months without her, he wouldn't last much longer.
"Will you come for me," he gasped against her, picking up the pace of his thrusts. The sounds echoed through the lift and spurred him on.
"Yes– yes, please, so close–" Hermione begged. Her hand fisted in his hair.
"Come for me, I want to feel you– want to come with you–" As soon as the words come with you left his mouth, Hermione yelled and clenched around him, coming harder than he had ever felt inside her.
When he pulled back, no longer able to hold off his own orgasm, Draco thrust hard and deep and came with a shout, spilling himself inside her. He slowed to a stop, unmoving, until a noise sounded outside the lift.
"Fuck," Hermione worried, eyes wide.
Draco laughed and lowered her to her feet, swiftly tucking himself away and righting his clothes. Hermione did the same, though, sans knickers. It was the quickest they'd ever had sex, but somehow nearly the most explosive.
Once they checked one another over, Hermione resumed her position beside him, smiling up at him mischievously, laughing.
Draco laughed with her, and when the lift door opened and none other than Harry Potter found them standing together, hair dishevelled, faces flush, they laughed harder.
"Fucking merlin," Potter grumbled.