Hermione Granger laid in her bed on Monday morning, quite happy. It was only 6:15 and she fancied a few moments of reflection on her weekend.
Following her breakthrough with Draco and a thankfully uneventful, successful quidditch match, Hermione felt that things were finally, truly solid between them. Her anxiety and discomfort had been soothed after the honest conversation she and Malfoy had had, and it only solidified her optimism when he'd been cordial with her friends. Again, she felt she was right on the money with her prediction that George and Draco would get on swimmingly.
Hermione's hopes for a quiet half hour to herself were dashed when, against all odds, she heard Ginny's closet door open and footsteps stomping through their shared space.
Ginny seemed to be back to her regular behavior, entering Hermione's room without knocking.
"Hermione, wake up!" Ginny shouted, bursting into the room with a stack of papers in her hands. Hermione sat up.
"I'm already awake, Ginny, but do please lower the volume," she requested, scowling at the abruptness.
Ginny ignored her request, immediately shuffling around Hermione's bed to climb under the covers on the other side. There were no boundaries, it seemed.
"Hermione, I know we make it a point to ignore the papers, especially Skeeter, but you have to fucking see this," Ginny screeched, clearly not feeling any concern about such loudness so early on a Monday.
She thrust the paper into Hermione's lap with an expectant look on her face. Upon reading the headline, she immediately rolled her eyes and turned to Ginny.
"Ginny, you can't be serious," Hermione whined.
"Hermione, just read it!" Her friend begged.
"Fine," she groaned, already knowing she was about to waste her time.
After finishing the garbage in about two minutes, Hermione turned back to Ginny, admittedly annoyed by the blatant misrepresentations and lies, but still unclear as to how this article was different from any others.
"Ginny, I understand it's infuriating, but this is-" her friend cut her off.
"Hermione, it is not. It is not the same when we're all here, trying to get through this year as students, and our names are dragged through the papers this way. I mean honestly, how are you not angrier than I am? Did you read the part where she told the entire bloody population to stay tuned regarding Malfoy's probation violation?!" Ginny had a point. That had definitely irked her most of all the nonsense.
"It's very upsetting, I don't disagree, but you forget that I've been a target of Skeeter's smear campaigns much more frequently and for far longer than you, Gin. This is not… any different."
"You only feel that way because you have Malfoy here with you. It's easy for you to shrug it off when you get to see him every sodding day, meanwhile I see Harry once a month!" Ginny slumped backwards.
That was true. Hermione had been feeling guilty about the distance between Ginny and Harry… even Pansy and Ron, if she wanted to be totally honest. The pull she felt towards Draco all the time was debilitating. No longer necessarily painful, like before, but… different. She could only imagine what it must be like for the others, separated by far more than a few floors in a castle.
"Ginny, how is your chest?" Hermione asked, suddenly curious about the effects of the bond.
"Unbearable, Hermione. I feel like I could cry," her friend responded, much to Hermione's surprise. Ginny was never one to cry. No pain, no gain and all that.
"Ginny, forgive me for this but – I don't think this is about Skeeter. I think this is about… the bond. The nature of the match. It's incomprehensible that you and Harry should be forced to be so far from one another at a time like this. I can hardly bear the hours here while Malfoy is in the dungeons!" Hermione spat, the inhumanity of it all becoming infuriating.
"No offense, but hearing you say that actually makes me want to hit you," Ginny confessed.
"As it should! I'm going to set up a time to speak with McGonagall! Immediately!" Hermione jumped from her bed.
"It's not only that, Hermione. I'm sorry if this is too much information, but now that Harry and I have slept together after the bonding, I'm… it's more than just discomfort. I don't think you could be there yet with Malfoy, even if he was away like Harry. I feel like a piece of me is missing or something," Ginny cried.
Now that was an interesting development. Hermione thought about the nature of her own relationship. How uncomfortable she'd been when she and Draco were awful to one another that first week, the shift she'd felt after the first time they kissed, then… the shifts after they did more than kiss. How different she'd felt in only the past day after they'd had such an honest discussion.
And they hadn't shagged yet. Not even close. Nothing more than what they'd done in the closet a few weeks ago.
Not because she didn't want to, or he didn't want to. They just hadn't really had any privacy aside from when she'd dragged him through the common room to discuss their relationship in her dorm. And there were rules against certain activities at school. She'd already been breaking the rules. And also, because Hermione was a bit afraid of how intense things would become if they did. Would she ever be able to focus on anything else? Ever?
But now, as she considered how physically and emotionally invested she was in her own relationship, Hermione began to wonder how on earth someone in Ginny's situation was expected to function. Hermione herself found it difficult at times to focus on her classes with Draco in the same room. And she was the student to end all students. Anyone with less interest in perfection than she had... she assumed much of their course work would seem meaningless.
Hermione wondered if she would lose her mind if she and Malfoy slept together.
"What are you thinking about, Hermione?!" Ginny cried from her bed, interrupting her train of thought.
"I'm just really beginning to wonder. About the power of the potion. Please bear with me, I'm going to do a bit of explaining, but I swear I have a point," Hermione told Ginny, who nodded exasperatedly, waving her hand to signal she could continue.
"It's been different for all of us… the bonding process. For Malfoy and me, we're using the need to be close to one another to… get to know each other. To really become friends as much as a couple. But you and Harry?! You've loved each other for years! And you've known each other for nearly a decade! You don't need a potion to draw you together, you're already there. You should never have even had to take the potion. None of us should've," Hermione continued, unsure of where she was going with this.
Not that she wasn't extremely grateful that the whole thing had forced her to recognize how well-suited she was to Malfoy. That was definitely a benefit. But honestly, she felt sort of… like they might have figured this out eventually, anyway. He'd said that other day, as well. When she was at the manor being tortured, Draco said that – in retrospect, he knew even then. That she was important to him. The same way she'd sought his gaze through the pain and suffering and fear.
"Ginny, I feel… concerned, now. That maybe this really is just serving as liquid luck and amortentia on steroids."
"What?!" Ginny exclaimed. Right. Magic folk didn't use steroids.
"I think this whole thing – well intentioned as it may have been… it really only sped up the inevitable. And although Gryffindors and Slytherins are coupling up… that doesn't really take into account the stress this has placed on all of us. On our friends, our loved ones, our studies!"
Now the wheels were really turning.
The more she thought about it, the more Hermione wondered how on earth they'd ever expected young adults to live their lives, after a devastating war, while being physically bound against their will to another person. Regardless of how perfectly suited they were… it just sped things up for the Ministry's sake. They could show how they were creating unity. But they weren't really creating anything. They were just forcing a faster timeline for relationships that were… already meant to be!
"It's a fucking love potion, Ginny," Hermione stated.
"No shit!" Ginny screeched. Hermione shuddered.
"Sorry, that sounded daft. I mean the whole magical cores thing… I mean, that's something… that's something possible through spells during marriage ceremonies. I mean, soul bonding – it isn't new. In fact, it's a bit… archaic."
"Hermione, please make your bloody point," Ginny cried, clearly impatient.
"I'm going to explain it to McGonagall. I… don't think we should actually be here. I think the bond… the potion… it's too much. For anyone to try to live with, to try to finish their education while dealing with. The more we solidify it, the stronger our needs for one another become. They've missed something," Hermione told her, panicking.
Ginny's eyes widened. Like something Hermione had said had really… brought things into focus for her. She leapt from Hermione's bed.
"I'm coming with you."
It was nearly seven by the time Ginny and Hermione had hauled their way to McGonagall's office. She knew the Headmistress would be up.
"Carpe Diem!" Ginny shrieked to the guardian, who instantly began to shift, allowing their entry.
"Seize the day?" Hermione questioned. Ginny shrugged as she began to climb the stairs. Of course, she'd have the password. She was Head Girl. Hermione was grateful.
When they entered the office, Professor McGonagall was seated at her desk, reading. She looked up at them from over her glasses.
"Miss Weasley, Miss Granger?" She sounded calm, but clearly surprised to see them so early.
"Professor, Hermione's figured something out. About the potion. I'll let her explain," Ginny started, moving to sit at one of the chairs before McGonagall's desk. Hermione followed her lead, sitting in the other chair.
"Miss Granger?" McGonagall sounded worried.
"Professor, it's – they made a mistake. This potion – it isn't fostering unity. It's forcing everyone together on a faster timeline, which is to their benefit of course, but they – they didn't anticipate this. How it would morph as each match and bond grew," Hermione panted, the fast pace at which they'd been moving that morning having suddenly caught up with her.
"Please, breathe, dear girls!" McGonagall insisted, looking ever-more concerned.
"Headmistress – you don't understand. I've only just figured it out. We've all been using the word soulmate to describe it because… because it makes sense, or whatever. But Florence – I don't think they thought about the fact that many of our matches actually are… the people we were meant to be with. Not just because of compatibility, but their starting point for the mandate – it was wrong. The matches were always going to happen for the couples that were meant to be together. It sounds corny, I know, but please, just listen to what I'm saying," Hermione continued, somehow calming as she went through it all, bit by bit.
McGonagall's eyes were wide. She said nothing, which Hermione took as a sign she could continue.
"The premise – it was flawed. It assumed we'd all ignore any compatibility because of how divided we were. And that's partially true, but… it's not all the way right. I know that Draco and I would've found one another at some point, don't ask me how. I know he's my soulmate," Hermione explained. Ginny gagged, and McGonagall scowled at her.
"That's where the issue lies, Professor. We wouldn't have ignored our connection. Not forever. It's… it has probably always been there. Same with Ginny and Harry. I mean, she's been in love with him since before she even met him," Hermione explained.
"Easy, Granger," Ginny warned.
"Sorry, Ginny. I mean no offense. But – it's true. We know this is an actual phenomenon among magical individuals, Professor. Soulmates, for all their manifestations in modern media, are real – in certain instances. Some people are just drawn together by fate. But that's why this… this potion. For those of us who are – more than just compatible – it's not changing us on a cellular level so that we can accept one another. Our cores resealed, like in a bonding ceremony, but the potion – it's going to act solely as amortentia, liquid luck, a lust potion even – for those of us that are being forced onto a timeline that was meant to be different."
"Miss Granger – I – please give me a moment to digest," McGonagall said calmly. Hermione nodded, glancing worriedly at Ginny.
Hermione could hardly believe it. Of course she hadn't been able to find a flaw in the formula. The formula wasn't wrong – the goal was wrong. Or skewed.
"Oh, my gods, Ginny! That's why Ron and Pansy – they're fine! I think. They eased their way into it! Because they're not… they aren't literal soulmates. Just incredibly compatible. They actually might have never looked at the other at all without the potion. Of course, we'd have to ask them about it. But when I think about how easily this came for Ron, they're the perfect outcome the Ministry was hoping for – not Malfoy and me. I'd assumed their bonding process was different because they were different, but honestly – I'm not some vixen! I'm highly guarded! If Draco and I were just compatible, I would've been drawn to him gradually, like Ronald!" Hermione felt so many questions she'd thought she'd already answered floating back to the surface.
"Oh my goodness, I can't wait to tell him," Hermione giggled, feeling even more besotted.
"Miss Granger – I don't mean to hurt you, but please, stop speaking for a moment," McGonagall said, instantly shutting Hermione up.
"I fear you might be correct, Hermione," McGonagall began, "but this is… more than disruptive, for certain matches – like your own. And, if you're correct about Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter, theirs as well. This is highly concerning. I need to speak with the Ministry immediately," McGonagall explained evenly but with sharpness.
"What am I supposed to do in the interim, Professor? I'm truly losing it without Harry here to-"
Hermione kicked Ginny in the leg. Not the time to discuss how sexually desperate you are. But then, Hermione thought, perhaps it was the time.
"Sorry Ginny, I shouldn't have – Professor – I don't think the students who have taken the potion and are experiencing… what Ginny is experiencing… should be expected to just move about regularly. This is debilitating, Minerva," Hermione explained, calling her Professor by her first name for the first time that year. They'd spoken many times as friends. Hermione had just never used anything but Professor when they were at Hogwarts.
"Miss Weasley – you're excused for the day. From your classes," McGonagall agreed, suddenly seeming more alarmed. She had students, probably more than just the two in front of her, running the halls on magical crack.
"Can I leave, Professor?" Ginny immediately asked, obviously thinking of going to Grimmauld place.
"You need to remain in the immediate vicinity of a floo, Miss Weasley. This is going to be addressed as soon as I can make the Minister aware of our concerns," she said tightly, probably feeling she didn't have the authority to tell Ginny no. She didn't know what the girl was going through.
"Miss Granger, are you quite alright to… function?"
"I'm fine, Professor. I mean, it's certainly distracting, but nothing like what Ginny is dealing with," Hermione explained. Although she wondered what might happen now that she was seeing her condition clearly.
"Right – Miss Granger, the more I think of it – I wonder if it would be best if you and Mister Malfoy assisted. I assume once I owl Florence, she'll want to meet… promptly," McGonagall finished.
"Of course, Professor, but Draco – if he misses any of his classes-" McGonagall raised a hand.
"I'll see to it that the faculty be made aware. I am the one who'd be required to notify the Ministry, Hermione. If he violated the terms of his probation," she explained. Hermione felt a bit better with that information. She certainly wouldn't want some idiot in charge of determining whether the Aurors should be called.
The Headmistress nodded at them, seemingly dismissing Hermione and Ginny from her office. They stood, and Hermione couldn't help but feel incredibly grateful for the close relationship she had with her Transfiguration Professor. She was concerned by her early morning revelation but comforted to have McGonagall in their corner.
"I'll notify you both when I have any answers," she called as they turned to leave.
Draco awoke to banging on his door. What the fuck?
He sat up, checking his watch. 7:23. He wasn't late! In fact, he had seven more minutes to sleep. Whoever was pounding was in for a pounding of their own.
Draco wrenched the door open, ready to attack, but found Pansy standing before him and looking quite… alarmed. He snapped his raised fist back to his side.
"What the fuck, Pans?!" He hissed tiredly, confused and feeling his drowsiness now that the adrenaline rush was subsiding.
"I don't know what you did this time, Draco, but Granger's waiting for you downstairs. She's still in her bloody pajamas, looks totally insane," Pansy told him, nearly laughing as she explained.
What? He hadn't done anything to piss of Granger! Had he?
Instead of dressing, he hurried past Pansy towards the corridor he knew Granger would be waiting in. Another footnote for the textbook – Draco Malfoy, in public. In his sleeping robes.
He tore out of his common room, finding Granger pacing manically.
"What's wrong?" He shot, instantly concerned.
Granger looked at him, taking inventory of his outfit. She giggled.
"Stop it, Hermione. I was just rudely awoken by Parkinson, told I was in deep shit, and ran down here to ensure you were alright. Don't laugh at me!" He shouted, though not actually angry. Just newly awake and confused.
"And why aren't you dressed, witch?" He followed up, looking down at her own ridiculous get-up. Draco actually cringed at the ratty state of her sleep pants and the large t-shirt she wore. It said, 'The Beatles,' whatever that bloody meant. Muggles.
Hermione crossed her arms, noticing his judgmental gaze.
"You stop it, then! We were both rudely awoken!" Granger said prissily. Oh, embarrassed Granger. How Draco loved her so.
Loved? Jesus Christ.
"May I come in?" Hermione asked, quite irritably.
"In there?" Draco asked in astonishment, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of where he'd just come.
"Yes! Unless you'd like to accompany me back up to the Tower this lovely morning!"
Yeah, not a fucking chance. Draco shrugged, turning and gesturing for her to follow.
As he tugged her into the common room, he felt her pulling a bit, no doubt taking in the perfection of it all. Or maybe just the Giant Squid, swimming by as it did each morning.
"Well, hurry up, Granger – we've got class," he stated, irritated and still confused.
"We're excused," Granger told him absentmindedly, glancing all around as he pulled her towards his room.
"What?" Draco stopped in his tracks. Excused? He wasn't excused – he was probational! Was that a word?
Granger suddenly seemed to snap out of her fascination with what, he acknowledged, were obviously superior accommodations.
"We should speak privately," she told him, serious now. He gave her a concerned grimace as Blaise came out of his own room.
"Am I fucking dreaming? What the hell are you doing down here, Granger? And what the fuck are you wearing?" Blaise said with both amusement and confusion. Granger scowled at him.
"Come on, then," Draco took her hand, pulling her past Blaise to his own door, opening it and locking it behind them.
"Godric, your room is huge!" Granger told him. Obviously. He rolled his eyes.
"You thought I was lying, did you?"
"Well I just assumed you were being dramatic," She explained, moving to his window to look out at the lake. He shrugged. She had him there.
"How hurtful, Granger," he feigned injury.
"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. But while we're on the topic – it's quite unfair – how could you possibly have such a large room compared to mine?" Hermione said, suddenly indignant at the injustice of it all. He laughed.
"Granger. Please, be serious. Your notable alumni are the Weasleys. I'm a fucking Malfoy," Draco told her easily, as if it made all the sense in the world.
"You're a prat!" She exclaimed, looking all the more outraged.
"Right, noted. Why are you here?" He asked, genuinely wondering. Her expression immediately changed. Now she looked a bit nervous, though not angry. Draco at least had that going for him.
"And were you quite serious, Granger? I'm excused? Potty isn't going to show up to put me in cuffs if I miss Charms?" He asked, taunting but serious.
"I promise, Draco," She shook her head, almost smiling.
"Well alright. Speak," Draco instructed.
"Can I lay in your bed? I'm cold down here in the dungeons," Granger asked. Good one, swot, make sure to write it down.
Draco rolled his eyes but nodded, motioning for her to go ahead, watching as she tucked herself in. Something in his chest exploded at the sight.
"Well? Aren't you going to join me?" Hermione asked, not understanding how the words affected him. He shook his head, climbing in, feeling his dick getting hard.
"Alright, now explain yourself. I'm growing horrified by the alleged pardon from my not-yet-committed probation violation," Draco drawled as she sat up to face him instead of snuggling in the way she had in her own bed just two days before. Hm.
"I actually have some news, well - not really news, but a bit of a shocking revelation to share," she began, looking equal parts proud or excited and concerned or unsure.
"Go on," he prompted.
"Well, I woke up at 6:15 this morning-"
"Christ, Granger, why?" Draco couldn't help the response.
"Oh I don't know, Mister 'I like to take morning walks and think about you!' I just woke up and I was laying there reflecting!" Hermione exclaimed, all red and cute. He laughed.
"As I was saying," Granger narrowed her eyes at him before continuing, "I was in my room earlier and all of a sudden, Ginny comes busting in, shouting about Skeeter's article," she recounted, rolling her eyes at the mention of Skeeter.
"She's at it again, by the way. You've likely violated your probation by attacking my side man, Harry, publicly at the match," she told him as though it made all the sense in the world.
"What?" Draco flinched.
"Never mind. It doesn't matter. But there was another ridiculous article this morning about Saturday, and Ginny comes in carrying on about how awful and unfair it is, and I told her she was overreacting, that she'd need to just let it go, because this is always what Skeeter does," Hermione said, nodding at him as if to say, 'am I right?' He nodded so she'd continue, unsure where the hell this could be going if the end result was that he was now excused for the day.
"Right, so I tell her that, and she still makes me read it. And she's carrying on, and then it hits me!" Granger was waving her arms about like a bloody freak.
"What hit you?" Draco said, genuinely unclear as to where she was going with this.
"The potion! It's all wrong!" Hermione exclaimed. His heart dropped.
"Oh, not like that you idiot, the formula. Actually, not the formula. The premise!" Granger had instantly quelled his fears and confused him all at once.
"Granger what the fuck are you on about? You're freaking me out!" Draco told her anxiously, grabbing her by her upper arms to get her to snap out of her bizarre state.
"Sorry, Draco, I suppose you think I'm being unclear. It was Ginny – she wasn't upset about Skeeter; she wasn't just upset about the lies she told about her and Harry!" Granger told him. How the fuck was he supposed to have deduced that? He didn't just think she was being unclear – she was operating in a different realm. Like fucking Lovegood!
"So, when I told her to forget it, she set me straight! Told me I had no idea how it felt to have people saying such things, because I'm here with you, and Harry's in bloody London! And it hits me!" Granger was looking quite serious now, despite her animation.
"The potion! The bond! The thingy, the pull in our chests! Ginny's is absolutely unbearable, Draco, could you even imagine? If I were here and you were in London?" Draco absolutely did not want to imagine. He winced, and Granger nodded enthusiastically and motioned at him with her hands as if to say, 'exactly! That's what I said!'
"Granger, you're going to have to keep fucking talking, because you're making no sense. I'm not daft, you're out of your bloody tree," he told her, losing patience.
"Right. Wait, hey! That's rude! I'm not – well, anyways. So then she says that I also can't imagine what it's like because we haven't shagged! And it's like, duh!" Granger looked as if she was about to stand and start jumping on his bed.
"Don't bloody remind me," he said, rolling his eyes. Of course, fucking Potter was screwing Weasley and he and Granger were bloody celibate. Not that he wasn't okay with that.
"Oh, shut up, Draco. You're lucky we haven't. I'm getting to that," Hermione sneered at him, looking positively elitist. He grinned at her.
"So, I start thinking about it. And like, the bond – it's awful being physically distant from one another, but wasn't it way worse at the beginning, when we were avoiding each other?" Granger asked. Oh, was it his turn?
"You were avoiding me, Granger. But I admit. I was not fully acknowledging it," Draco conceded.
"Whatever. Semantics. But what about after we snogged? After the shed? After the closet?" She said as if her point was obvious. Well, actually, he did sort of understand what she was saying. He had no idea where she was going with it, but yes – those events certainly did shift things.
"Right, I've been existing in a perpetually turned-on state ever since each of those events. And everything in between, if you must know."
"Yes, but then what about after Saturday, when we talked about everything?" Draco winced at the memory, but quickly started to catch on.
"Another shift. I'm even more fucking obsessed with you, if that's possible. You're an idiot, you know that? I mean honestly, witch, I tell you the whole truth and you tell me you like me more? And then I have the fucking balls to agree with you, once you told me. I mean it's insane,"
"I know it is Draco! I know, oh, thank Godric, you're finally getting it!" Granger cheered.
"I'm not, actually. I understand what we're vocalizing but I don't see what it has to do with me not going to prison for missing Charms," He told her honestly.
"Right, sorry. It's just the way we've become more and more… attached. To each other. I mean honestly, when you told me on Friday that we'd be done if I didn't stop being so awful, I truly thought I might die. The thought of you leaving me… I thought I'd die. So of course, I forced you to have that conversation on Saturday because it was driving me to the brink, not being sure that everything was understood between us. And think about it, I mean it's been what, just over a month? And look at us, Draco!" She was waving her hands about, gesturing at the space between them. Unfortunately, he did understand what she meant. How bloody ridiculous.
"We've moved incredibly… quickly. I admit that. I won't apologize, Granger – I'm fa-"
"Of course, you shouldn't apologize! But think about it. And think about Pansy and Ronald, or even Theo and Luna, really. I mean think about how calm they are!"
"Wait, how did you know about Weasel and Pansy?" Draco asked, always in awe of the amount of information this witch was capable of storing.
"Oh, it's old news, Draco. They started bonding at the Three Broomsticks!" Hermione insisted.
"They what?"
"That's the whole bloody thing, Draco. You and I – Ginny and Harry – it's been incredibly… intense. That's the wrong word, but my diction is not important at the moment. Ron and Pansy – they eased into their bond. It isn't the only thing they can think about – it's easy, it's wonderful, I'm sure, but it's not like us. And I thought it was just because you and I are so intense, but then when I think about it – I'm incredibly guarded! So are you! So, the way our cores resealed – the way it was instant – Malfoy, we didn't need the potion. We were already soulmates!"
He was stunned.
"I'm going to need you to expand on how you're drawing that conclusion a bit more, Hermione," Draco replied, begrudgingly admitting to himself that he didn't disagree. He'd probably have ended up with her some way or another, potion or not. His reaction to her torture, her testifying – despite how terrible of a past they had – it wasn't normal.
"We are actually soulmates, Malfoy. So are Ginny and Harry. That's why for us, we're on the fast track, moving so quickly, feeling so much more obsessive after every little step. We're basically doing exactly what fate would have us do, but this potion – we can't help how quickly we're moving. Everything – the intensity – it's all magnified, because we didn't actually need to seal our cores or take any potion – we would've ended up together regardless. No matter how long it took," and Draco was hardly breathing. Now he was starting to follow.
"So, when Harry and Ginny took it, they were already completely together. They've known each other for years, but they've been in a real relationship, having sex, all of it. But they're soulmates, as well – no potion necessary. So, when they're apart? God, it must be excruciating. And Ginny thinks that because they've had sex after being bound, it's even worse. Which is why it's good we haven't yet," Granger told him, and that, he had to respond to.
"Granger, you know I only want to do what you're comfortable with but – why is it good that we haven't fucked?"
"You're so vulgar! Because if we did, it would just make us like Harry and Ginny! We don't need to, but the potion, it's making us crazy! We're doing this so much more quickly that we would've, and if we had sex?!" Granger explained.
"It still wouldn't be like Potter, Hermione. We're in the castle. Together. It's not like them," Draco told her, genuinely meaning it.
"Actually, I suppose you're probably right about that. But regardless, Draco, you and I did not need to take that potion. It's only making us walk about like two halves of a whole, which we already were, but now we're all hopped up on liquid luck and amortentia and lust!"
"You're quite finished, now?" Draco asked.
"Almost. So, of course, I tell Ginny we need to speak with McGonagall. Right away."
"Naturally," Draco rolled his eyes and she whacked his arm, a bit harshly.
"Don't mock. It's unattractive, Draco. So, she agreed, of course, and she's going to contact Florence to explain it. Because this all means that while there's no flaw in the formula, there is a mistake in the mandate. It assumed that all of us didn't have a soulmate, that without their help, we'd never recognize one another's appeal. That was incorrect. We would have. Just not quickly enough for them."
"And I'm excused from class because… you've figured the whole thing out, and I'm your soulmate so I reap the rewards?" Draco said, genuinely still not understanding that part.
"No, you dolt. We're excused because whenever McGonagall meets with them, we'll have to attend. That, and it's most likely inhumane to force us to walk the halls basically drugged, if I'm correct. Which I am," Hermione explained, finally leaning back into him and snuggling up.
"Wait, so Granger, can I make sure I have this right? You figured all of this out – because Weasley was painfully horny for Potter this morning?"
"Draco, don't be crude!" She pinched the arm of his that she held.
"Ow, fuck!" Draco winced.
"But yes, I suppose that is… technically not incorrect," Hermione admitted, sounding decidedly less amused. She was no fun, sometimes.
"So, you're telling me I was right, but you're going to pinch and likely bruise me anyway, and that I'm your soulmate, regardless of the fucking Ministry, but we… can't fuck?" Draco finished, confusing himself.
"That's right," Hermione said happily.
"And now we're on call, waiting for the Headmistress to summon us? So that, guinea pigs we are, we can explain to Lawrence why she's a stupid bitch? And that her project is probably driving actual soulmates out of their bloody minds?"
"Well, I wouldn't put it like that. But yes," Granger nodded.
"Brilliant," Draco grumbled. Just what he wanted to do on his day off.
At least he got to spend it with Granger.
Chapter 35: Thirty Five
Notes:
In which Hermione makes a big decision.
Chapter Text
"Well. That went well," Draco told Hermione as they left McGonagall's office that evening.
Hermione was not totally without hope, but she definitely didn't feel… reassured. By the Ministry, that is.
Florence had come to meet with them to discuss the particulars of what Hermione had surmised, and... Hermione was beginning to like the woman less and less. She'd essentially told them that there was no way to prove that the potion wasn't having different effects on say, her and Draco and Ron and Pansy, simply because they were very different people. Florence told her in no uncertain terms that she saw no way for any of them to prove definitively that the differences could be traced back to one couple being soulmates and the other just being highly compatible.
Hermione's original assumption. Which she'd recently thrown out the window.
The one glimmer of hope was that it sounded the Office was concerned enough that the Ministry was considering revoking the mandate – and instead encouraging consumption of the potion for future years.
Brilliant.
That told Hermione everything she needed to know. That she'd been right – Florence might have already begun to suspect as much prior to hearing from McGonagall. She insisted that the potion's effects would diminish significantly as time passed. Florence hadn't offered a definitive timeline – but Hermione knew no love-lust-luck potion could last forever. It didn't solve the current issue, though, and Hermione felt quite confident the Ministry had no interest in letting news of the mandate's flawed foundation get out to the masses.
Although there had been… a discussion of how this could be handled.
Florence conceded that, against her predictions, the potion had made things quite difficult for the Hogwarts students in particular. Most notably, those like Ginny, who was suffering being apart from Harry. Even if, as she said, it would not last forever. And thus McGonagall, who seemed generally irate – but still composed, to her credit – told Hermione there would be some sort of effort to mitigate the situation. Hermione had her suspicions of what that might mean.
"They're going to ask us to sit for our exams in December, Draco," Hermione told him.
"Seems… likely," he replied, seeming less upset than she was. Well, maybe she wasn't upset.
The whole year, she'd been feeling a bit unchallenged. Hermione really had no need for her classes. The fact that she attended DADA each day was pretty much laughable. But she'd wanted one last year at Hogwarts.
And now, if they were required to leave, that just gave the Ministry more cover for their mistake. It wouldn't necessarily be because they'd decided Ginny, Hermione, Draco and whoever else were qualified to graduate early (though they were). It would be because they knew their mistake was creating real issues, and not only for those who'd taken the potion. The entire thing was bound to become quite disruptive. It wouldn't be fair to the younger students, who deserved to experience normal, untainted years at school.
"I'm not sure it's the worst thing, Granger," Draco told her quietly, taking her hand.
"I know," Hermione nodded, feeling… not at all ready. Because if she graduated in December? Then what? Australia? There it was. The one thing left on Hermione's mind that caused enormous strain. Her parents. Honestly, as she held Malfoy's hand she began to wonder if her avoidance of their condition was the reason she'd returned in the first place.
She hadn't wanted Head Girl like she'd always dreamed in the past. It didn't appeal even remotely. Hermione wanted no responsibilities at all, honestly – she felt like an adult at school. Like a fish out of water. Even though she'd settled in, the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if returning to Hogwarts had been her attempt at putting a band aid on a bullet hole. A return to normalcy, or at least, a good effort at doing so. Hermione still got as far ahead as possible in all of her classes – that's who she was. But it did all seem rather pointless. Perhaps it was time for her to start focusing on her next steps. Maybe Hogwarts felt different because she was different.
She hadn't known what to expect from her future on the train all those weeks ago or in the woods last year, but this certainly hadn't been it. Soul bound and besotted with Draco Malfoy, probably graduating in December, and then no further plans. Strange.
"Don't look so depressed, Granger. You can't honestly tell me you'd actually be getting anything out of staying here all year. I know your classes aren't challenging you. You'd probably have any job you wanted just waiting for you to take. Why not sit for your exams?" Draco asked.
"I think I'm more upset that I wanted to come back and do this the way I always thought I would – a real, final year, and it's not like that. I feel like all I'll really have gotten from this whole eighth year endeavor is you," Hermione told him honestly.
"Thanks for that glowing review, Hermione," He said sarcastically, knowing she didn't mean to diminish their relationship. She rolled her eyes and laughed, despite how bummed out the whole thing made her feel.
"I just don't know what I'm supposed to do if we do leave for good at the winter holidays," Hermione admitted.
"Well, obviously you won't be alone in that. If they kick the lot of us out, we'll all be floundering a bit."
"I suppose that's true," Hermione agreed. He was right.
"And then we can do whatever the fuck we want, tell the Ministry to fuck off, or you can become bloody Minister if you want. Honestly – world's yours, Granger," Draco insisted.
"I would never want to be Minister."
"Really? I always assumed you would be," Draco said shrugging, and she couldn't tell if he was blowing smoke.
"Are you teasing?" Hermione turned her head towards him.
"I'm honestly not. But if you actually don't have those aspirations, I think it's a good thing. Those garbage bins don't deserve you," he told her.
"I think I need to see what's going to happen with my parents before I make any decisions," she blurted. Draco stopped and turned to her, grimacing in pity. They were at the usual spot where they'd have to go their separate ways. Her to the tower, him to the dungeons. For some reason, that night, it felt especially bleak.
"Feel free to tell me to fuck off, Granger, but I really don't want to leave you," Draco stated, of course, speaking her thoughts aloud.
"No, I was thinking the same," Hermione's grip on his hand tightened, feeling a bit of life being breathed back into her at the thought that maybe she wouldn't spend the entire night alone and lost in her thoughts.
"Your place or mine?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. She laughed.
"Yours, I think."
"So you admit it. You think Slytherin house is superior," Draco teased.
"Your bed is bigger!" Hermione retorted.
"My bed? Just what do you think we'll be doing? I was going to suggest a game of chess, not allow you to have your wicked way with me!"
"Draco – shut up," She laughed, and he squeezed her hand, leading her down the stairs and in the direction of his quarters.
Upon reentering Slytherin's common room for the second time that day, Hermione pleaded with Draco to stay there for a bit. She genuinely found the view astonishing.
"Fine, Granger, but do keep in mind that I get cold down here, in the dungeons. I'll need to get jammied up and tucked into bed before I freeze to death," he told her dramatically. Of course, he was using her own words against her, yet again.
"I'll try my best to remember your fragility," Hermione replied, earning a scowl.
"Well if it isn't my best mate and his bloody soulmate!" Blaise. Wonderful.
"Mate, if you want to keep the title, don't be annoying. We've had a long day," Draco rolled his eyes as he groaned in Blaise's direction.
"Touchy, touchy! Trouble in paradise? Skeeter on the money?" Blaise taunted.
"Oh, yes, definitely. That's why I've readily agreed to join you lot in the dungeons instead of returning to my own house. Because everything's gone to shit," Hermione played along.
"Granger, you are quick with it, aren't you? What the fuck have you been doing upstairs, why weren't you with us all along?" Blaise said easily.
"I didn't pass the blood test, I reckon," she shot back, and Blaise's face immediately fell.
Draco laughed from her side, knowing she was only playing with his friend, but Blaise remained statuesque, unsure how to proceed.
"Granger! Back so soon?" Pansy strolled into the common room, pulling Hermione to sit on one of the large couches with her. Draco and Blaise followed.
"Pansy, actually, I was wondering if you'd let me pick your brain," Hermione began, cut off by Draco's audible sigh.
"Granger, please – can we do that tomorrow? I'm bloody sick of talking about it today," Draco whined.
"Hold on Draco, now I'm curious," Pansy dismissed him, instantly turning her attention to Hermione, "go on Granger, pick!"
Hermione actually felt quite tired of it all, as well. She'd just give a brief overview. For now.
"Actually, Draco's right – we should talk more tomorrow. But to avoid leaving you at the edge of your seat, I just wanted to discuss your feelings about Ronald. For science," she explained.
"Science? You want me to tell you how I feel for your ex-boyfriend for science?" Pansy said in disbelief, but chuckled nonetheless.
"Not for bloody science, Pans. Granger has solved the potion shit and she wants to hear more from you about your feelings for Weasel to see if it confirms her hypothesis," Draco explained.
"That actually is, by definition, completely scientific, Malfoy," Hermione rolled her eyes at him, "and Ron was hardly ever my boyfriend. I just have suspicions about how your connection with him differs from my connection with this sweet young man here," Hermione gestured towards the blonde with false adoration.
Pansy and Blaise looked amused as Draco crossed his arms, looking a bit defensive.
"Alright, then Granger – would it be safe for me to assume you won't be joining me for our rounds tonight?" Shoot, Hermione hadn't even considered that – admittedly, she really wasn't in the mood.
"Granger and I are busy tonight. McGonagall is aware. Take it up with her," Draco spoke for her. She cringed, but liked that he'd been so quick to excuse her. Why was she so easily convinced to be so… selfish, tonight?
"He's right," Hermione told Pansy, who looked surprised that she was agreeing. Again, Hermione's loss of excitement for continuing to be perfect Granger was rearing its head.
"Good for you, Granger. I honestly never thought I'd see the day," Zabini said from a large chair across from them, "I'll go with you, Pans! Fucking set some tossers straight!" Blaise volunteered.
"Blaise, you're not a fucking prefect," Draco laughed.
"So? That means I can't walk Pansy around the castle for one bloody night?"
"It's not like they can send him to prison," Hermione added, much to the amusement of the Slytherins. Pansy guffawed.
"See, that there Draco. That right there. She's a genius," Blaise told Malfoy, who did look a bit proud. She liked that.
"If anyone asks, I had nothing to do with this," Draco told them, rising from the couch and stretching. Hermione stood as well, expecting this meant they were heading to his room.
"See you two tomorrow," Draco called over his shoulder as he led Hermione back in the direction of his bedroom. Hermione blushed when she heard Blaise yell something about a contraceptive spell.
"Ignore him," Draco told her as he opened his bedroom door, allowing her to enter before he locked the door. This time, he silenced the room.
Draco checked his watch.
"What time is it?" Hermione asked, suddenly unable to remember the last time she'd checked a clock.
"About 7:30," he replied, kicking off his shoes.
Ugh, Hermione regretted not going back to Gryffindor to change out of her robes. She didn't want to lay down in them. Not comfortable.
Malfoy seemed to pick up on her distaste for the uniforms.
"I've got extras, Granger. You can just borrow my shit," He rolled his eyes like it was the simplest thing in the world.
That was… new. And intimate. Her heart fluttered as she smiled at him.
"Don't be alarmed, Hermione, I'm only getting comfy myself," he told her as he pulled his shirt over his head, silently levitating it to his laundry bin.
Hermione stood and stared at his shirtless form as he moved his hands down to undo his belt and trousers, pulling those off as well. He was so confident in himself. It made her throat dry.
Draco smirked at her and walked to his drawers in only boxers, opening them to take inventory of their options.
"My shit is going to be huge on you, Granger. What about this?" He said, turning to hold up a rather cozy looking jumper. Of course, it had the Slytherin crest. But it did look soft. And it would easily fall to her mid-thigh.
"Fine, but don't think I don't see what you're doing, Malfoy," She told him with a glare that had no real emotion behind it. She was privately excited to wear any of his clothes, even if they did have references to his house. He laughed, not putting on a shirt but pulling on his soft sleep pants. Pants that looked like they cost more than a house. He was so ridiculous.
Again, he surprised her, turning to give her privacy so she could change. Hermione found herself excited to see his reaction to her wearing his clothing.
As she undressed, setting her things quite carefully on his desk chair, she watched him embark on something of a routine as he kept his back turned. Draco pulled the covers of his made bed down so they were ready to climb into. Then, he stood by his nightstand, quickly removing the watch he wore every day and setting it in a small case. How rich. She liked that she got to watch his back and arms as he moved in such a normal setting. She'd never seen him shirtless in an actual bedroom.
"Alright, I'm decent," Hermione told him after pulling the jumper over her head. He hadn't been wrong. It hung almost to her knees – he was tall, don't get Hermione wrong, but she thought it might even be a bit big on him. Hard to tell.
He turned, and to her excitement, his eyes instantly locked on her own before raking down her body. She tittered on her feet, feeling nervous for his evaluation.
"You're much more than decent, Granger," he smirked. She grinned back, butterflies in her stomach.
She tried to be confident as she breezed past him, crawling into his bed. Again.
He spun to follow her movements, looking quite pleased when she settled in before climbing in with her.
"Now this is just far too fucking domestic, Granger. Alert the press," Draco said prissily. She laughed, leaning into his side as she snuggled in. It was bizarre how a person could make you feel so comfortable, even if you were in an unfamiliar place.
Draco instantly repositioned so he could lean over her as she laid flat against his pillows.
"Fancy a snog, Granger?" He laughed from above her. She nodded happily.
The moment his lips touched hers, she felt at ease. Like everything else – all the nerves about the potion, what she'd have to do tomorrow or the next day, everything – it felt so much less important. Hermione's stomach clenched at the realization.
"I think I love you," she blurted out, their lips still touching. He pulled back.
"I think I love you, as well, Granger – hard to be sure. This is all moving so fast."
She rolled her eyes at how quick he was to respond, not even flinching at her random admission.
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that that felt so easy," Hermione told him.
"We've only been discussing how the fates made us soulmates, potion or not, all bloody day," Malfoy laughed, breath fanning across her face.
"Is it awful that I think I've been meaning to say that aloud for – I'm unsure how long?" Hermione asked genuinely.
"No. I was thinking it. You're just braver," Draco smirked, dipping back down to kiss her again. Of course, the way he said it, he made her feel so good about herself. How did he have such a positive effect on her psyche?
They continued kissing, both just enjoying the feeling of being together. And falling in love with each other. As truly insane as it was.
Hermione found she was quite restless to do more than kiss him. Their bodies were pressed together, and she could feel his arousal against her hip. He moved down to kiss her neck. Hermione let her fingers drift into his hair, absentmindedly rubbing his scalp. He seemed to enjoy it when she did that.
Malfoy's hands had been on a downward path, now playing at the bottoms of the jumper she wore. It had ridden up to her waist during their movements, and Hermione shivered when his fingertips brushed at her hips lightly. She immediately sat up to remove it, tossing it onto the floor beside his bed. She smirked when she noticed the brief grimace that passed over his features. He hated a mess.
But then he refocused on her, forgetting the clothes on the ground – Merlin forbid a garment on the floor!
"New rule, Granger. You should always only wear this," Draco said, gesturing down to the thin lace bra she wore and her cotton knickers.
"I'll get right on that. May I wear shoes to class, though?" Hermione teased, and he narrowed is eyes at her, both knowing he would never let her around anyone else so exposed.
"I'm open to negotiations," He played along, schooling his features into a pretty convincing poker face. Hermione smiled, pulling him back down to kiss her.
After a few moments of laying against one another, skin to skin, Hermione suddenly became conscious of the fact that they were both rubbing against each other. They'd naturally found a rhythm without her even noticing. Draco's eyes opened almost immediately, seeming to have noticed the same. He groaned, looking down at where their bodies touched. Hermione tightened her legs around him at the sight.
"Let me go down on you, Granger," he said, his eyes locked on hers. Hermione instantly stiffened at the unfamiliarity of such an act.
"I'm nervous - what if you think I taste awful or you hate doing it-" she began, stopping her word vomit when he laughed at her.
"You know that's not possible, Granger. I like everything that I do with you. For you. More than like," he said, moving his hips against hers again so that she felt pressure right on her clit. Hermione stifled a groan.
"Let me," he said, continuing to slowly press their hips together, driving her a bit mad.
"Ok," she finally said, excitement bubbling in every part of her body. Draco kissed her once on the mouth before moving back to smirk at her.
To her complete astonishment, he sat up, pushing the covers they'd been under down.
"I want you to see," he told her, and she just stared back, unable to nod in response. Now, Hermione's nervousness was being outshined by the sheer excitement and anticipation of sharing something new with him. And feeling so good.
Draco moved back up to kiss her, and then started on his path downwards, leaving a path of heat that didn't go away when his mouth disappeared. He kissed both of her breasts over the material and Hermione jerked her hips, unable to contain her reaction to the feeling. He looked up, pulling back only slightly.
"Can I take this off, too?" He asked, obviously referring to her bra. She nodded and lifted herself up enough so that she could reach around to unsnap the clasp. Draco's hands moved behind her to meet her own, gently maneuvering the soft straps off each shoulder before discarding the whole garment completely, tossing it to join the jumper on the floor. He smiled, knowing she would be entertained by his willingness to add to the mess. If you could call it that.
Hermione's breath hitched when he focused his gaze on her breasts, and although it wasn't the first time he'd seen her without a bra, the intimacy of it all stunned her. She felt so much more at peace in a bed with him, despite the excitement of previous acts in hiding places.
"I like this. Being in a bed, in a room with you," Hermione told him.
"My thoughts exactly," Draco responded, grinning as he moved his head down to her chest.
She could feel his breath tickling against her skin before she felt his tongue gently glide over her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and biting it softly. She moaned and he immediately met her eyes from his position. The sight of him, lowering himself to touch and taste her body – Hermione felt so… special. And she was shocked how comfortable and easy and incredible it felt.
Draco moved to do the same to her other breast, teasing her for another few moments before his tongue inched lower, drifting down between her breasts towards her navel.
"You are so perfect," he said aloud, and she wondered if he'd meant to say it or he was just overwhelmed by the feeling of being together like this. She felt the same way.
And then, he'd shifted so low they both paused. Hermione looked down and found him laying between her thighs, his eyes on hers. He moved his hands down to hold the insides of her knees, sitting up slightly.
"Don't be afraid to make noise, Granger. I've silenced the room," he told her seriously.
She giggled at his intensity. His features immediately softened and he repositioned, his face now inches from her core as his hands reached to touch the edges of her knickers.
"Take them off," she told him, surprisingly impatient. He immediately laughed, shaking his head and saying something under his breath.
"What was that, Malfoy?" Hermione quipped, sitting up a bit on her elbows.
"You're so bossy," he told her, smile still on his face, "and I just… it's funny. That you're still so you even like this, even when we're doing something you've never done. I love that you don't change," he finished.
She smiled shyly at his words.
"And see – there – you're still a bit shy!" Draco exclaimed, like it was some incredible feat.
Hermione just giggled again, laying back a bit but still watching him.
Draco's hands moved to tug at her knickers and she lifted her rear so that he could pull them off, making quick work of removing them completely so they could join the small pile next to the bed. Hermione watched in awe as he moved back to where he'd been, now face to face with her naked body. He looked up at her.
"I can't wait to feel you coming apart. Under my tongue, on my fingers," he told her, still staring at her face as one hand moved down to stroke at her slit. She moaned.
"So wet, Granger, I just – it's my favorite thing about you. Always just as excited as I am," he said, staring down at her core and running his tongue along his bottom lip.
Before Hermione could react to that visual, Draco moved down to lick from her entrance to her clit, one arm looping around the top of one thigh while his free hand inched down to play at her opening.
Hermione groaned as he repeated the motion, one finger wiggling as it just barely entered her while he continued swirling his tongue around her clit.
"How does this feel, Hermione?" Draco asked, his words vibrating against her as she looked down, stunned to find him still staring up at her.
She nodded, unable to speak. He smiled, seeming to understand, not forcing her to verbalize it. He kept licking at her, moving up and down, sucking at her clit, circling his tongue around it. Hermione couldn't even believe how incredible it felt – his fingers alone had made her feel so good – and this was just – more.
She rocked slightly as he continued, her hands having drifted down to pull at his hair, both of them groaning every so often at how it felt. Hermione nearly screamed when she felt him remove his fingers from inside of her, only to immediately replace them with his tongue, pushing it as far in as it would go.
"Oh my god Draco, that's," Hermione found she couldn't continue speaking, lost in the sensation as he moved back up to her clit, just as she'd begun to need pressure there.
Draco moved two fingers back into her slowly, going in and out as she rocked her hips, suddenly wanting more. Deeper. Everything.
"Draco – I want to feel you," she bit out, almost begging as he stopped his movements and pulled back slightly so that his fingers still moved in and out while he looked at her.
"Hermione, just let me do this for you," he told her, not understanding.
"It's – your fingers – it's not enough. Want more. You," she told him, wanting nothing more than to feel his length inside her.
No matter how good his tongue and fingers felt… now, all she could think about was actually feeling him move inside her. How complete they would be.
He groaned, quickly moving up to kiss her while he kept his left hand on her, removing his fingers to rub at her clit.
"We don't have to, Granger," Draco told her, and she knew he meant it, but she could also see the look on his face. How badly he wanted to, too.
"I know. I just need to. Need to feel you, actually feel you," Hermione told him as she moved her hand down to grab at his hard length through the silky material. He groaned.
"You're sure?" Draco asked, his eyes boring into her own with an intensity that knocked the wind out of her.
"I'm sure," Hermione told him, trying to tug off his trousers. He laughed, not at her, as he lifted himself off of her to tug them down enough that he could kick them off.
Hermione immediately grabbed his neck as she tried to rock up against him, her legs tight around his.
"It's going to hurt a bit, Granger, I don't want to hurt you-"
"You won't. Please," Hermione told him, well aware that losing your virginity as a biological female could be a bit… uncomfortable. She didn't care.
Draco kissed her so softly, but she could feel the intensity leaking out of him. How badly he wanted it, too. He reached down to line his cock up at her entrance, but played with her clit instead of pushing in.
"I'll go slow," he promised, staring into her eyes with sincerity dripping from his features. She nodded, smiling at him and lifting her hips so that she could feel him right against her. He laughed at her impatience, shaking his head slightly as he put both hands on her thighs, opening them more for him. He took a deep breath in, seeming to try to prepare himself.
"I don't know how long I'm going to last, Granger – it's been a while, and you're so-"
"It's fine, Draco. I just want to do this with you," Hermione told him, her hands running small circles on his upper arms. He nodded.
He looked her straight in the eye as he moved one hand down to help guide himself in. Hermione felt her mouth open slightly in anticipation as she felt his tip at her opening.
And then he slowly moved further, sliding in enough that she could feel how much he was going to stretch her.
It was strange. It didn't hurt like she'd imagined. It just felt… a bit uncomfortable. But she knew he was holding back.
"Keep going Draco," She instructed, flinching a bit at the strain on his own features.
"I can see it in your face that it's uncomfortable, Granger," He told her.
"I don't care. Don't worry about hurting me. You won't hurt me," She reassured, and he relaxed slightly. She wiggled her hips to try to deepen his thrust.
He chuckled, shaking his head at her for the millionth time, before finally, slowly, moving all the way in.
She winced slightly when she felt his full entrance, finally experiencing the sharp pain that she'd heard about. But in the same motion, she felt… something else.
A fullness that wasn't just intrusion – it was like completion.
"Can I move?" Draco groaned, and she nodded enthusiastically, completely focused on the sensation.
Thank the gods, he finally pulled back, not fully, but enough – and rocked back into her.
Hermione saw stars.
The fullness, the slight ache, but also just being so connected to him. She could hardly breathe.
He did it again, and then again, building a slow, careful rhythm.
"Hermione – I – you're so fucking tight," He hissed, pleasure and restraint clear in his voice.
She rocked her own hips slightly, moving with him, perfectly in sync.
"Do you feel it, Granger?" He strained, and she knew exactly what he meant.
"So perfect," she whispered, letting her eyes shut lightly as she focused on how it felt to be like this with him. Draco began to move slightly faster, but still slow enough that she kept up.
"How does it feel?" Draco said in her ear.
"So good – so much better than I thought it could," She told him, knowing he would understand despite how few words she used. She moved her hands up his back, letting her nails dig into his skin as the pace quickened.
Draco was moving in such a way that every time he rocked forward, he brushed her clit just so. It felt amazing. She was no longer focused on feeling any of the initial pain or ache – just really feeling him as they moved. She moved to wrap her legs around him instead of letting them fall open like she'd been doing.
"Oh my fuck," Draco groaned as she locked her ankles together behind his bum, suddenly feeling his thrusts deepen. Hermione gasped when he circled his hips, hitting a point inside her she didn't know existed.
"Draco – do that again," she half shouted, and he instantly did as she asked.
Their new rhythm was beyond any sensation Hermione had ever experienced. With every snap of his hips, she felt her orgasm inching closer and closer. She grabbed the back of his neck to pull him into a lazy kiss, both of them more focused on the feeling of their hips meeting, but still wanting to brush their lips against each other.
Draco looked down at her as he continued to move, pure pleasure on his face.
"I think I definitely love you, Granger," he ground out, continuing to move inside her.
"I love… you," She moaned her response, and he moved his hand back between them to brush her clit with his thumb.
The sensation, the feeling – it was all too much, building around her and between them. Her jaw was open as she stared up at him.
"Come, Granger. Come on my dick," Draco said, and she groaned, shutting her eyes as the pace quickened and she let the impact of his words sink in.
"Look at me, Granger," he begged, and she did.
The moment their eyes met; she screamed her release.
Chapter 36: Thirty Six
Notes:
In which Hermione discovers further architectural injustice.
Chapter Text
Holy fuck.
Draco lay beside his witch, both of them staring at the ceiling above his bed trying to catch their breath.
He'd actually just had sex with Hermione Granger. More than sex – he didn't even know what to call it. Draco was totally overwhelmed.
"Wow," Hermione said to his left, nearly laughing as she spoke the word, "was that a good one, then?"
Draco laughed immediately, letting his eyes shut at the question. She couldn't be serious.
"That was ace, Granger, I don't even have fucking words," Draco admitted through his snickers.
"Now I really don't know how Ginny and Harry live so far from one another," Hermione breathed.
"Really, Granger? I've literally just deflowered you, and you're already talking about Potter. Unbelievable," Draco rolled his eyes but felt no real annoyance. He didn't think he'd ever be annoyed again.
"Ew, Malfoy – never use that word again," Granger cringed.
"What, Potter?" he replied with a smirk, "Gladly."
Hermione whacked his upper arm, using the back of her hand and enough force to elicit a slapping sound.
"Jesus, witch! Take it easy!"
"Don't say the word deflowered ever again, and we'll have no further issues," Granger responded, turning her head to look at him.
"Fine," Draco said, leaning over to kiss her.
"What time is it now?" Hermione asked.
Draco leaned over to pick up his watch.
"Shit – already half nine," He told her, shocked at how quickly two hours had passed, "I suppose time flies when you're having fun," he winked.
"I guess it does," Hermione laughed back.
Draco pulled the covers back up around them as Hermione wrapped an arm around his abdomen, draping her left leg over his own. Cozy.
"You'll stay, won't you?" He asked, suddenly anxious about the idea of either of them leaving his bed.
"After the quality of service? Of course," Hermione teased. He pinched her side and she squirmed.
"What happens now?" Hermione asked, suddenly sounding curious.
"What do you mean?" Draco looked down at her face, noticing a seriousness that hadn't been there before.
"It's not even November yet, Draco, how are we supposed to keep separating? Every night?" Hermione cried, seemingly desperate at the thought. Draco's stomach dropped as well.
"I'm not sure. We – we're going to figure it out. It's only another month and a half. We can have sleepovers," He responded, not really knowing if he was right about that.
Granger buried her face in his neck, clingy all of a sudden. Unfortunately, Draco loved it.
"I'm serious, Draco – I don't – I don't know how Ginny is dealing with this. I already feel so much more attached to you. Just… do you feel it? The dread when anticipating… leaving?" She squeaked from her hiding place against him.
He did, actually. But it didn't feel like the best time to sink into anxious despair with her.
"Granger, even if we can't spend every night together – we'll be together all day, every day. We'll be fine. It's temporary," he reassured, trying to soothe himself as well.
She nodded against him. They both knew it was useless to go down this road. They had no information about how the situation would be handled by the Ministry or the school. Nothing was even official about sitting for exams in December. They'd just been making assumptions.
"I think I've decided I do have to work at least Ministry-adjacent," Hermione declared out of nowhere.
"And why's that, Granger? What do they call it – post-nut clarity? You're finding major questions easy to answer now that we've had a good, long shag?" Draco started, trying as hard as he could to keep a straight face.
"Honestly, it might be," Hermione responded, seeming to take his suggestion much more seriously than he'd intended it.
"Are you serious, Granger? What the hell does Ministry-adjacent even mean?"
"Lobbying. Something. To prevent them from ever doing anything like this again," Hermione explained, and of course that's what she was thinking about, absolute bleeding heart that she was. Of course Hermione was already thinking about how to effect change. She was too bright – too decent and caring for her own good.
But Draco found he didn't hate the idea himself. Fucking Granger and her limitless influence over him.
"You might be onto something there, Granger," Draco nodded in acknowledgment, "although I'm not going to stop enjoying certain benefits that have come from this bloody mandate," he finished.
"I wonder how the Room of Requirement is healing," she wondered aloud, changing the subject without another thought. The witch was lucky Draco was so unbelievably sharp and adaptable. Otherwise, she'd have a partner who couldn't keep up with the constant redirects.
"The Room of Hidden Things? How do you mean?"
"Well, Ginny mentioned a couple of weeks ago that it was still out of order – following that – er – incident at the battle. As in, still totally in shambles and inaccessible for use. But I do wonder if that's changed by now," Granger said, sitting up.
"Where are you going?" Draco asked.
"I actually need to use the restroom – what should I do?" Hermione asked nervously, clearly anticipating a walk of shame. Draco preferred to call it a stride of pride. Who wouldn't be proud to bang him?
Draco rolled his eyes and smirked, knowing such phrases were irrelevant in this instance.
"As I told you, Granger, Slytherin is superior in all ways," he gestured towards what looked like just his closet, "sink and toilet are through there."
"You have your own bloody bathroom?" She exclaimed.
"Of course I do," Draco grinned.
"Unbelievable," Granger muttered as she rolled her eyes, "can you toss me my shirt and knickers?"
"You mean my shirt and knickers?" He taunted, leaning over the edge of the bed to grab the requested clothing items, handing them to her with a smirk.
"You're such a prat," Hermione told him as she pulled the shirt over her head and stood, wincing at the movement.
"Are you alright?" Draco immediately asked, concerned by her visible discomfort.
"Fine, just a bit sore," Hermione said, looking embarrassed as she pulled her knickers up and started towards his loo.
Hermione couldn't believe Malfoy actually had his own restroom. She was also annoyed at how quickly she'd expressed her surprise and envy. As if the man needed any more reason to think his house superior to the rest.
She moved towards the door across from his bed, pushing it open to find that there was a toilet, sink and mirror as well as a small actual closet inside. She pulled it shut behind her without looking back at Draco, who was surely smirking at her from his bed.
Hermione winced again as she sat down on the toilet. The pain wasn't severe or debilitating – just uncomfortable – a slight sting. One that would surely give way to soreness, and then probably disappear altogether. She hoped the last bit wouldn't take very long to come to fruition.
When she stood up to flush, she noticed a bit of blood mixed with her urine. To be expected. Hermione instantly grimaced, simultaneously realizing there was likely blood on Malfoy's lovely, expensive sheets – how pleasant.
She rinsed her hands before glancing up in the mirror to look at herself. Hermione immediately giggled at the unkempt state of her hair, opting to redo her ponytail before going back into Draco's bedroom. She was actually stunned he hadn't mentioned it already. He was, after all, the world's most prolific… taunter. Maybe not officially a word, Hermione thought, but it probably should've just appeared in the dictionary upon Draco Malfoy's birth.
She decided, as she used her fingers to smooth out her hair before tying it, that she didn't look any different after sex. She was still her, but she admitted – she felt different. More adult in a way. Excited that she'd no longer be in the dark when people discussed it around her. Hermione was now a member of the club, which she decided was a ridiculous concept. But she still felt proud to have done it. And proud to have done so with him.
When she emerged from the loo, Malfoy was laying back on his pillows, hands behind his head, looking at her.
"I can't imagine why you've fixed your hair, Granger. It looked breathtaking before - I mean, truly, it was a painfully elegant sight," he tormented.
"Very funny. Actually, I should mention – I think I may have… bled. A bit," Hermione grimaced as she spoke the words, climbing back into bed and pulling the covers back so she could see them.
"Oh," Draco looked a bit awkward as he grabbed his wand, "Right. Scourgify."
Hermione was relieved when the small blood stain disappeared. There was something embarrassing about the entire thing. She knew she shouldn't feel badly – it was normal – but she still cringed as she retook her spot and pulled the covers back up.
"It's not a big deal. Stop looking all ashamed and mortified," Malfoy demanded evenly. She turned on her side to look at him, tucking her hands under her right cheek as she rested her head on the pillow.
"You're right. It goes against my brand of feminism to allow such things to embarrass me," Hermione replied authoritatively. He rolled his eyes.
"Whatever, Granger. I just won't have you acting all ridiculous about anything that's a byproduct of our copulation," he insisted.
"Stop using those damn words, Malfoy! First deflowered, now copulation? Agh!" Hermione told him, her pitch slightly elevated. He just laughed in response, seemingly entertained by her reactions to his verbiage. Tosser.
"Speaking of – I may have gotten a bit caught up in the moment. I forgot a contraceptive spell, Granger," Draco confessed, cringing.
"It's fine Malfoy – I've been on a muggle contraceptive since I was 15," Hermione replied, feeling grateful for the first time that she'd had terrible cramps when she menstruated. Her doctor had put her on the pill without a second thought, and poof – problem solved. If Hermione hadn't had debilitating pain once a month from the time she was 12, their current situation might have been cause for real concern.
"Why the hell is that?" Malfoy bit his response, instantly misunderstanding. Hermione laughed at him without hesitation.
"My doctor – muggle healer – put me on an oral contraceptive for my period cramps years ago, you idiot," she explained, and he no longer looked prepared for an interrogation, but remained confused. Right. Oral contraceptive – that would definitely require further delineation before he understood.
"Just don't worry about it, Malfoy. And don't forget the next time you get caught up in the moment," Hermione teased.
"Easy there, Granger. If memory serves, you were quite taken yourself," Draco replied. He wasn't incorrect, but who would ever tell him that? Surely, not her. Hermione found herself beginning to wonder, having just become a name on Draco Malfoy's list of bodies, how she compared. Her curiosity and anxiety got the best of her within moments.
"Was that as good as… other times? I know it's different, because it's us, but-" Draco immediately shook his head, cutting her off.
"There's no fucking comparison, Granger. Not even in the same category. Everything is different with you – stop doubting it. It's annoying," he told her, sounding irritable as he turned to look at her, slight anger in his features.
"Don't speak down to me! It's perfectly reasonable for me to wonder when you've slept with – with I'm not even sure how many others!"
"I'm not speaking down to you! I'm being honest!"
"Draco, you don't understand how it feels to be with," Hermione put her face in her hands, "with someone who has such a prolific sexual history. Having never slept with someone before sleeping with you. Don't get so defensive. It's not about me judging you or whatever else. It's about me having wondered about this forever and now needing reassurance," Hermione finished honestly.
Draco looked at her like he was in physical pain.
"As much as I would've liked to take credit in the past for this whole narrative you're familiar with… it isn't really worth discussing, Granger. It's not nearly as wild as you seem to think. I never slept with fucking Fleur – look – I admit I've slept with a number of people. But the quantity – the names on a list – it's not relevant. I'm telling you that nothing mattered to me with anyone else. Not before this. I was fucking those people, feeling nothing, not giving any of it second thought. I wasn't even looking them in the fucking eyes," Draco looked desperate as he ran his hands through his hair, "I made love to you. That was a first for me as much as it was for you," Hermione felt her heart clench.
She took a moment to consider his words. Did it actually matter who he'd slept with before her? Perhaps not. Maybe everything was new for both of them, not just her. Maybe she should stop focusing on such things. None of it could be changed.
"I'm not going to apologize for my real feelings. But I will thank you. For that honesty. For being… candid with me. I love you," Hermione told him, meaning it. His focus snapped back up at her.
"I love you - not in a small way. In a way that scares the shit out of me, I'm probably going to fuck up and hurt your feelings sort of way, Granger. I need you to know."
"I know," Hermione said, hugging him so hard her arms felt tingly, "it's my own insecurity. It's also me hearing so many things - but you're right. It's not relevant, it's not helpful or constructive for me to know details. I should take you at your word," she conceded.
"For what it's worth, Granger, if I'd known you were coming, I would have waited for you."
Hermione hurried down the corridor towards the Fat Lady's portrait. It was still early enough that there were no other students out and about or heading down to breakfast. To her great relief, Hermione found no one in the common room either. It wasn't quite seven in the morning – she supposed she shouldn't be surprised by the emptiness.
Hermione's luck ran out immediately upon entering her own room, where she found Ginny Weasley sitting at her desk chair, looking at her with an expectant expression.
"Ginny!" Hermione started, jumping in surprise.
"Hello there, Hermione," Ginny smirked her answer as Hermione shut the door behind her.
"I wasn't expecting you – how are," Ginny's growing smirk stopped Hermione's flow of words, forcing her to redirect, "wait – why are you in my room, Ginny?"
"I think the better question is why aren't you in your room, Miss Granger?" Ginny replied knowingly. Hermione cringed and Ginny softened, laughing before she continued.
"I just got back myself. Spent the night with Harry – and I wanted to come speak with you about what all happened yesterday with Malfoy and Shiptrill after I left. What I didn't expect was to find an empty bed at 6:30 AM," she finished, and Hermione breathed a slight sigh of relief. At least that meant Ginny had probably only been sitting in her empty room for 20 minutes at most.
"I may or may not have also spent the night… out," Hermione acknowledged.
"Hermione Granger. Are you telling me you slept in the bloody dungeons with Malfoy? Fucking interesting," Ginny started laughing, "I'm not judging. Just so unbearably curious that I may lose my mind if you don't give me details. Immediately," she reclined in the chair.
"Well we don't have too terribly long to discuss – I'm in dire need of a shower," Hermione said, resigned to the fact that she'd be spilling her guts to Ginny without delay. She sat on her bed and kicked off her shoes, opting for a cross-legged position.
"You're different somehow. There's… something. I can't put my finger on it," Ginny told her, eyes narrowing as she observed Hermione.
"I had sex with Draco," Hermione rushed out, finding she couldn't contain herself. Ginny leapt from her seat, tackling her backwards onto the bed as she flew to sit across from Hermione. Graceful.
"Tell me everything. Now. Leave no details out," Ginny instructed, clearly fighting a shriek. Hermione laughed, quite ready to do exactly that.
As Hermione told Ginny the entire story, including the fact that she and Malfoy had dropped the mutual L-bomb, her friend sat totally at attention, absorbing each word. She laughed, sighed and shook with excitement for Hermione at every point in the story that the elder witch had hoped she would. It felt normal – despite the fact that they were discussing Draco Malfoy. By the time Hermione had uttered every last detail, leading all the way up to her shock at finding Ginny waiting for her in her room, it was nearly 7:30 and sounds of movement had begun outside the door. Everyone would be beginning their days by now.
"What about you, Ginny? How are you doing?"
"Better now that I was able to spend the whole day and night with Harry. It's almost like-"
"Recharging a battery," Hermione exclaimed, surprised by her own analogy.
"Huh?" Ginny looked confused. Right. Muggle contraption.
"It's like you need to be able to spend a decent amount of time together if you're to separate. The bond – the potion – you're not intended to be together rarely, for hours at a time on an irregular schedule," Hermione explained.
"Exactly. Hermione, I know you're a bit – miffed – over the possibility of sitting for our exams in December, but I can't even explain how much of a relief that would be for me," Ginny told her with a sigh.
"My irritation rests solely with Florence and the Ministry, Ginny. I'm frustrated that the only real solution to this whole thing is to tell us to graduate early, rather than take responsibility for the mistake. Publicly," Hermione finished.
"Yeah, well, it'll be a cold day in hell when they own this. I'm mainly shocked that they're already considering revoking the mandatory clause for future years. That's more than I'd expected. They really fucked up," Ginny replied, and Hermione had to admit – she'd been having the same thought.
"It's prompted me to begin thinking about what I'll do if we end up sitting for exams early," she told her friend, who immediately raised her eyebrows.
"Oh shit – she's conspiring," Ginny declared, laughing with intrigue.
"Details to come," Hermione replied, grabbing her towel as she prepared to wash away the past 24 hours.
