Saturday

Disturbing her Saturday routine of cleaning her flat in the morning by having done some every day when Hermione had either gone to work or was sleeping, Draco suggested - demanded, actually - that they continue reading 'their book'. Hermione had already forgotten about his disappointment on Thursday. To be honest, his insistence on them reading it together horrified her, sappy romance novels being a guilty pleasure, which was very low on her list of hobbies she would rather not share with anybody.

Reading a book together with Draco as a human proved difficult. At the distance they sat side by side on her couch, Draco's wide shoulders forced him to hold his head in an uncomfortable side tilt, his neck would surely start cramping before long. To avoid giving him a stiff neck, Hermione had to hold the book farther away, which in turn meant that her arms grew heavy, starting to tremble from the exertion.

Levitating charms, however, merely helped spare their muscles, but served to tire their eyes, the book not staying exactly in place but instead, swaying up and down. Hermione's suggestions for him to scoot or for them to shift sideways, herself sitting between his legs so he could read over her shoulder, were quickly shut down by Draco.

At his refusal, she shot a "Why not?" at him. His response of, "I don't want to," was unsatisfying at best.

"You didn't mind yesterday," she argued and was annoyed at his reluctance. When he began flicking at his silver tag again, a clear sign of his discomfort, she let him be.

"I'm out of ideas, Draco." She used her low, calming voice, signalling that she did not wish to frighten him.

"Reading aloud is an option." What he really meant, though, was for her to read to him, his hand fending off the book when she offered it to him.

"Do you want me to do different voices as well?" Merlin , she had sworn to be nice, but he just had to make it hard for her. Her question literally dripped with sarcasm.

Draco considered her offer briefly before scrunching his nose up and shaking his head. When she began reading the story aloud, Draco shifted to the side, shuffling to the far end of the couch. As if to secure the distance between them, he drew up his knees. It was either that or this was just another way for him to get comfortable. Not up for another confrontation after their little incident the day before, Hermione concentrated on the text, the author describing beautiful scenery in the Scottish highlands.

Not long after, Hermione had made it to the lovers first encounter after being separated, Draco moved again. Releasing his knees, one leg drooped over the edge of her couch while he bent the other. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione watched as he extended his arm across the backrest ever so slightly. Hooking one of his long elegant fingers into one of her stray locks of hair, he played with the curl, wrapping it around his finger. At the memory of cat Draco lying in her lap and swiping up into her hair, Hermione had to stifle a grin.

Maybe, she had been mistaken and he was not purposely keeping his distance with her, after all. As the chapter drew to a close, the suspense was on the rise, not just within the plot of the romance novel. Pushing up onto his knee Draco had… crawled towards her, for lack of a better word, his movement smooth as a cat's. Feeling his gaze trailing a hot path along the contours of her profile, Hermione found it hard to concentrate on the love interests engaging in a heated argument.

Incorporating a dramatic pause into her reading, Hermione seized the moment to glance at him. Draco was fully engrossed in fixating on a point somewhere below her jaw. With his legs crossed and his upper body leaning towards her, he was still so much taller than she was. Height was one of the traits Hermione appreciated in, no, sought after, in men. Commandeering a man of much taller stature was ultimately more entertaining for her. In her mind, knowing that a man could easily overpower her, but chose not to, made every interaction so much more precious.

Her thoughts threatened to run into dangerous territory if she kept observing Draco, who inched closer at a snail's pace. The dramatic pause had exceeded its reasonable duration, but Draco did not seem to notice. Curious as to what he was up to, Hermione cleared her throat to distract from the fact that she had halted her reading for too long, and continued.

Although her eyes took in the words and her mouth formed the vowels and consonants, Hermione took in none of the story. As if on autopilot, the words fell from her lips, the sounds spilling onto her lap and dissolving in the air, losing their meaning. All her ears tuned in to at that moment were Draco's low purr and his deep breaths. At the lower edge of her field of vision, she was keenly aware of his hand resting on his knee. His fingers were flexing, then digging into the fabric of his trousers. Repeating the cycle of movements, Hermione got the idea into her head that his fingers wanted to move, to explore the adjacent plane of her skirt pulling tight across her thighs.

Good Godric , if it were not for the guilt lurking in the back of her mind from ripping that orgasm from him, Hermione would take yet another decision away from him and guide his hand right to where she needed it, to her throbbing core. A silent whimper close to her ear only served to kindle the fire within her. What she would not give to hear him begging one more time?

Her brain turned sluggish, the letters becoming harder to read, blurring into one another as she slowly but surely lost her concentration. To her surprise, it seemed that not both of his hands were caught in an internal struggle on whether to move or not, his other hand fisting her hair. He did not pull, just held it, kneaded it… smelled it.

Hermione chanced a glance at him, his eyes closed, eyelids fluttering, as he inhaled the scent of her shampoo from the locks overflowing from his fist. A bolt of electricity shot through her, as another sensation joined the subtle feeling of him rubbing and tangling her curls between his fingers. Something warm and soft had tentatively brushed against her leg, before wrapping itself around her calf. His tail proved to be far more nimble than she had thought possible.

With the dramatic dialogue of their book obviously no longer relevant to either of them, Hermione abandoned the text entirely in favor of studying Draco. The question whether he would look at her the same blissful way he had during his shower orgasm, invaded each of Hermione's thoughts.

"Draco," she whispered and he opened his eyes to look at her.

The closest example she could think of to compare the look on his face, was a person hypnotized by a magician, one snap of the finger and they would cluck like a chicken or bark like a dog. At the sound of her closing the book, however, an utterance far worse than any animal noise left Draco's lips.

"When will Theo be coming to pick me up?" Any hope that Draco's advance on her had a connection with even the slightest attraction to her, went straight out of the window at that moment.

His voice was so hollow and detached that it physically hurt Hermione to hear the sentence, each word cutting into her flesh. The wounds he left revealed her assumption that he would stay. When her brain had decided that her agreement with cat Draco to accommodate him as long as he behaved still kept its validity was beyond her, but hearing his question exposed just that: her want for him to stay.

"I… I'd have to write to him…" Hiding her disappointment was harder than she thought, and Hermione prayed he had not detected the waver in her voice.

"You do that," he stated and stood up abruptly, his tail uncoiling from around her leg. Without further comment he left the room, the left side of her body still tingling with the phantom sense of his proximity.

He did not return to the living room. Minutes ticked by and Hermione remained clueless as to what had happened. She had thought that after his initial hesitance, he had finally opened up a little after their drunken dance. Ever since then, Draco had embraced his attached side once more. Sure, they had had the short episode of her scaring him with the mention of his leash, but neither of them had brought it up again and he had seemed fine.

Apparently, nothing was fine. Quite the opposite, actually.

Whatever it was, Hermione had done something that unnerved Draco, a certain restlessness radiating off him whenever she was near him. Hermione first noticed it when she found him in the kitchen afterwards. He was in the middle of making some tea, his arms wrapped around himself as he shivered, drops of water falling from the strands of his freshly washed hair. His ears were drooping to the side and his tail hung low as he stood there waiting for the water to boil.

"Draco," Hermione had called him, but he did not react, wave after trembling wave running through his body. Slowly, she approached him, saying his name with every step she took, but his response remained the same: nothing. His skin was ice cold beneath her fingertips as she touched his arm to finally gain his attention.

"You're freezing!" she exclaimed and made to wrap her arms around him, which, in turn, finally elicited a reaction from him; his reaction being to flinch at the contact and jump away from her.

"Are you okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned about him. His lips pulled up into a weak smile that failed to reach his eyes, and his head nodded just a tad too enthusiastically.

"I'm fine ." Him stressing the word did not help his case in the slightest. It only made his whole display of 'being fine' less convincing to Hermione.

"You don't seem fine ." Annoyance at his pretense laced her sentence, Draco visibly tried not to act strangely, but Hermione was certain that if she approached him now, he would withdraw further.

"Everything's fine," he reassured her, forcing the corners of his lips into a wider smile, the skin around his eyes pulled tight.

If Hermione ever thought that the use of Veritaserum was justified, it would have been at this very moment. Telling her the truth could simply not make the situation any worse.

"Well, if everything's fine , I guess you'll join me in the living room to watch a bit of telly?" Playing along with his stupid lie, Hermione could not help herself, but to challenge him, to force him to keep true to his words or to weasel out of the hole he had dug himself.

Ting, ting, ting. Again, that nervous clicking of his silver tag. His ears twitched as he made his decision.

"Okay", which hardly sounded enthusiastic.

With a huff, Hermione summoned a tray and prepared tea and leftovers from the café for both of them, while Draco remained standing where he was, the metallic tinging maintaining its rhythm.

Hermione did not know whether she should laugh or shout, when Draco went to sit down on his Slytherin green cushion far away from the couch instead of sitting beside her. For a cat, the cushion was a comfortable size to sit on, for a full grown wizard of Draco's size, however, it was… utterly ridiculous! For half the episode, Hermione kept her thoughts to herself. When he shifted on the cushion for what felt like the hundredth time, her patience ran out. Although she wanted to avoid a situation like their leash joke misunderstanding, under any circumstances, Hermione could not silently sit by.

"Merlin's pants, Draco, get on the couch! I can't bear to see you sitting on that tiny cushion!" No longer caring to handle him with kid gloves, she made sure it was cutting, overtly showing her dissatisfaction with his choice of seating.

She had caught him right in the middle of another of his searches for the best position when there was none. As if time stood still, he did not move, simply stared at her.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down once on a thick swallow, before he responded with, "I'm fine sitting here."

Fine .

Hermione could not hear that word any longer, coming from him, it made her want to scream. Draco clearly did not grasp the meaning of 'fine'. Hermione was sure that the dictionary definition of 'fine' did not include any of the things he must be feeling, if he could not even sit next to her.

Instead of screaming, though, Hermione used something that she theorized might work better with Draco: her mistress tone. Usually, it was strictly reserved for playtime with her submissive, but Draco had been unresponsive to anything else she had tried.

Changing her posture, so her back was straight, Hermione fixed him with her eyes and commanded softly but firmly, "You will not sit on that cushion, Draco. It's too small and I'm done watching you shift around every other minute. You will come over here and sit with me on the couch." She gestured towards the other end of the couch, where he could still keep his distance if he chose to do so. His eyes darted between her and the other side of the couch, as if assessing the safety of her offer. Apparently, coming to the conclusion that it was indeed safe, he took the long way around the back of the couch and sat down at the other end, taking his cushion with him, hugging it to his body.

"Good," Hermione praised, the 'boy' going unsaid, instead it hung in the space between them.

Sunday

An unfamiliar aroma surrounded Hermione as she stepped into the living room the next morning to wake Draco. It was not the stale smell of a room lacking oxygen, but heady and masculine. That Draco possessed a nice natural masculine scent, she had not been able to ignore, but this was stronger, more enticing. Just like with the heavenly coffee smell a couple of days ago, her feet automatically carried her towards him, the reason for its appeal a completely different one.

As she leaned over the back of the couch, the allure of his aroma only increased and the urge to properly smell him, while he was still asleep and would not notice, was strong, almost overbearingly so. Gently shaking him by the shoulder, Hermione sought to raise him from his slumber.

"Time to wake up, Draco." Usually, she would have let him sleep in, but it was already eleven a.m. when she finally got out of bed and their breakfast was already prepared. His eyes fluttered open, the irises unfocused until his gaze found her.

"Hermione," he sighed and smiled.

His hand shot out and pulled her receding hand back and up towards his head. Without her other hand steadying her against the back of the couch, Hermione would have fallen on top of him. Insistent on getting petted, Draco pressed her hand onto his head, guiding her in the motion he prefered until she scratched behind his ears on her own.

A low purr rumbled through him. Hermione did not even bother to fight the smile spreading across her lips or the giggle to escape. Just a little longer , she indulged in his need for caresses and diligently stroked his head, his hair just as silkily smooth as his fur had been. All the while, Draco nudged her hanging curls, making them sway back and forth.

"So, do you want scrambled or fried eggs?" His tongue quickly swiped over his lips before he smacked them a couple of times with relish.

"I know exactly what I want," he purred and smirked. At his vague response, Hermione raised her brow, a silent plea for him to elaborate. Hooking his finger into one of her curls, Draco pulled her closer, a conspiratorial glint in his silver eyes.

Her brow crept even further up her forehead as she awaited the big revelation of his preference in breakfast eggs. With every breath he took, a wave of his heady scent washed over Hermione and she did not seem to be the only one smelling the air, Draco was inhaling through his nose and sighing.

Pausing for one moment after an especially deep inhale, Draco instantly let go of her stray curl of hair. For one second, Hermione thought she had seen a flicker of panic flash in his eyes, but surely she had to be mistaken, because shortly afterwards his lips pulled into a cheshire cat grin.

"Poached," was his final verdict, "on avocado and feta toast." A snort and a slap to his shoulder was her response.

"Once a spoiled brat, always a spoiled brat, huh?" Laughing hard, Hermione threw her head back, tears collecting at the corners of her eyes.

" Poached ," she imitated his posh accent and shook her head in mock disbelief.

Propping himself up on his elbows and bending one of his legs, he smirked at her, not offended in the slightest. The thought of his extravagant egg variation was apparently enough to make him hungry, the tip of his tongue languidly tracing the seam of his lips fervently, back and forth. Not even her repeating the word over and over, using various inflections, deterred him from doing so.

"Well, before you starve, I better start cooking."

It did not take him long to appear right behind her, stooping forward to look over her shoulder. That heady aroma wafted off him and Hermione had to refrain from outright sniffing him. His head, next to hers, brushed against her hair, moving it so that her locks tickled her neck. Suppressing a giggle, Hermione squirmed, trying to lean away from him, but he merely followed.

"Are you monitoring me?" Hermione asked incredulously, almost offended, that he would dare to do so. That feeling, however, was swiftly replaced by the burning hot sensation of his hand on her stomach. When she had been squirming mere seconds ago, Hermione went stock still now, acutely aware of the size of his hand, easily covering her abdomen. His heat seeped right through her top and threatened to burn her.

The bubbling of the water ceased to register with her, her sense of hearing completely taken over by the sound of his shallow breaths. Each of his exhales ghosted over her skin, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. Soon enough, Hermione's breathing matched with his as he tensed his fingers around her middle ever so slightly.

When he brushed her hair to the side with his other hand, his fingernail trailing along her skin, Hermione held her breath, a familiar tingle building deep down within her core. Draco proceeded to rub his head in the crook of her neck, his silky hair caressing her skin. First, he rubbed the top of his head against her, then his cheek. Next, she felt his lips, trailing tender paths up and down the column of her neck.

While Hermione had written off their other moments of proximity as cuddliness, one of his tendencies to cat-ish behaviour, she could no longer deny that this was something else, something more intense .

With his nose pushed into her skin, Draco inhaled, a satisfied hum grumbling deep within his throat. Teasing, that was what he was doing to her and although Hermione liked, loved , teasing, she did not appreciate being at the receiving end. If he continued on like this she would tie him to a chair with rope magic and teach him a lesson in delayed gratification.

Her hand was already reaching out to grab her wand and set her plan into motion, when Draco scraped his teeth along her skin, eliciting a gasp from Hermione. The sharp, sudden intake made Draco draw back from her, the area where his hand had lain on her stomach immediately growing cold.

Instead of magically tying Draco to a chair, Hermione wanted to shoot a hex at him, for his next words were, "Have you heard from Theo, yet?"

As she turned back towards him, though, her fingers loosened around her wand, letting it fall back onto the counter. The look of fright on his face had returned, his ears pushed flat on his head and his tail hung low.

From that moment on, normal behaviour no longer seemed to exist in Draco's vocabulary, always on either side of two extremes: too close or too far away. Uncertain how to deal with his mood swings, Hermione decided to observe, to try to find out what triggered the change. One thing was for sure: she was the cause of those changes. How she initiated the switch, however, she did not know.

Only a set of three sounds dominated the silence between them: his shallow breathing close to her, the metallic ting of his silver tag from a safe distance and, worst of all, the inquiries about Theo's return in between. With every switch from one extreme to the other, she would ask, "What did I do?"

To which he answered time and time again, "Nothing."

During his frightful episodes, when he kept her at two armlength's distance minimum, if he could even bear staying with her in the same room, Hermione hoped he would finally give up his pretense of being fine, but to every "Do you still insist that everything's fine ?", he would simply echo "Everything's fine."

It was when he had almost climbed onto her bookshelf, rather than let her heal the wounds on his neck where his claws had broken the skin, that Hermione had lowered her wand in defeat.

"I only want to help you, Draco."

"I know"

Her sole comfort was that at least he knew that she cared for him.

Monday

On Monday morning, Draco took it to a new level. Upon opening her bedroom door, Hermione was greeted with a ghastly sight: Draco had attached the leash to his collar. He somehow managed to look both pale and flushed at the same, like a fever dream, his hair matted to his head with sweat. Her greeting of "Good morning" got stuck in her throat, her eyes fixated on his fingers around the chain.

Frantically, his hands wrung around the leash, running up and down the metal chain links. After their misunderstanding about the leash, Hermione had completely forgotten that it even existed, her mind preoccupied with trying to figure out what about her triggered the switches in behaviour in Draco.

When she tore her eyes away from his hands - had his nails always been that long and sharp? - Hermione found him staring back at her, eyes wide open.

Instead of his usual "good morning", Draco unleashed a shrill trill-meow upon her, not exactly the kind of sound one wanted to hear right after waking up. The unpleasant noise made her hiss, her hands flying up to shield her ears. What made the situation even worse was his reaction. He yanked the leash with such force that Hermione was worried he might snap his own neck. His skin around the collar already shone an angry red colour due to the irritation. Dear Merlin, what had gotten into him?!

"Draco, what are you do-" she wanted to check on him, but once more he ejected that horrible sound in response, before fleeing into the living room.

It was not the first time he had hidden from her within the last couple of days and when she left him alone, he had returned more stable... so far. This time, however, Hermione could not shake the feeling that everything was no longer fine and Draco would admit to it.

She found him crouched in the corner next to the fireplace, shivering and rhythmically yanking on the leash. Carefully, Hermione got onto her hands and knees and crawled towards him, gently cooing his name so as not to frighten him. At an appropriate distance, she sat back down on her haunches, worrying at her bottom lip.

"You're not fine, Draco," she stated, there was no point in sugarcoating it any longer. A strangled groan escaped from his lips, just more proof of the severity of his situation.

" Please, tell me what's wrong with you, so I can help," she begged him, the despair at her helplessness overwhelming her.

Rocking back and forth, Draco held onto his leash tighter, the leather of his collar biting into his skin. Vehemently, he shook his head, a stream of muttered "Nonononono" falling from his lips.

"Draco, please ." The sight of him hurting himself made Hermione's heart clench, made her want to pry his fingers from the leash and hold him tight, until he stopped shaking.

Her words seemed to not get through to him as he continued his endless murmur of "Nonononono", his voice only growing more agitated with every iteration. As she tried to crawl closer to him, however, he suddenly snapped out of it.

"Don't come any closer!" he exclaimed, pressing further into the corner. The ferocity of his shout made Hermione flinch, for one moment afraid that he might lash out.

"Just tell me what I can do to help you." Her request was carried on a whisper to him, his cat ears twitching and turning towards her.

"You can't help me." His words were hollow and void of any hope.

"Can Theo?" It was her last chance. Either Theo could help Draco or she would have no choice but to drag him to St. Mungo's.

"I hope so." There was little certainty in his voice. Hermione would take the chance, although she was unsure whether a case like Draco's - an Animagus stuck somewhere between human and cat? - was something that commonly occurred. His tail curled around him as if to embrace himself, as if to console himself.

"Will it at least help if I stay away from you?" Hermione balled her hands into fists, frustrated with her powerlessness to relieve his pain.

Chuckling humorlessly, Draco loosened his hold on the leash. "A little."

She had already suspected as much, but it still hurt to hear him confirm it. "If you just tell me what it is I'm doing to upset you, I'll stop doing it, Draco." One word from him and she would stop whatever it was that had brought this situation upon them.

A shiver ran through his body and his knuckles turned white around the leash, the horrible cry breaking free of his throat again. Afterwards, he heaved in gulps of air, fighting with whatever pain was tormenting him. It took him a couple of minutes to calm down, until his groans quieted to laboured breathing. All Hermione could do was kneel there and watch.

"It's not that simple." Glancing over his shoulder, Draco shot her a sad smile, a glassy sheen covering the silver of his irises.

Disappointed with his answer, that only solidified her helplessness, Hermione's shoulders slumped in defeat and she left the room, to at least contribute a little as he had put it.

Breakfast without Draco was a quiet affair, just the clatter of her spoon against the cereal bowl and the occasional trill-meow from the living room interrupting the silence. Only then, did Hermione realize how used she had gotten to having Draco around, cat or wizard. Now, she longed for his company, his smart interjections and insightful comments. Her appetite was lost on her, the cereal growing soggy in her bowl as she listlessly poked at it with her spoon. Sighing, Hermione gave up on finishing her breakfast and dumped the remainder of her cereal into the sink.

Mechanically, her body carried herself through the steps of her morning routine, the absence of Draco pushed to the back of her mind. In the shower, the water managed to drown out the frequent high-pitched cries at least a little bit, but as soon as she shut the water off, the noise reminded her that she had no time to waste. She dressed with haste and ran for the fireplace. Floo powder already bunched into her fist, Hermione hesitated before stepping into the hearth.

"I'll get help, I promise!" she assured Draco with a shout, hoping that he would hear it over his trill-meows.

No less than six notes were dispatched from Hermione's office that day by interdepartmental mail, a seventh hand-delivered by herself to the lowest floor, where she had to argue endlessly until, finally, another Unspeakable swore to have her note delivered to Theo immediately . However, with every hour that passed with no reply, Hermione grew more uneasy, her mind racing with the ever-nagging question of how she could help Draco.

Completely disregarding her work, Hermione drew up a timeline of when she had started noticing Draco's strange behaviour. Their leash misunderstanding served as her starting point, it being the first incident in which he had refused to let her touch him. Another hour went by and despite the many scrolls of parchment she had filled with all kinds of notes and three failed attempts at mindmaps, Hermione remained none the wiser.

She was a hundred percent sure that it had to be some kind of Animagus transformation malfunction, seeing as the cat ears and tail remained, but none of it made sense connected with her being a trigger. With a frustrated groan, Hermione crossed out her latest explanations for his strange behaviour, all of them utter nonsense, the musings of a desperate mind. Throwing the quill to the side and gazing down at her ink speckled fingers, Hermione had to admit defeat.

Without more pieces of insightful information on Draco's condition, she would not be able to help him, or properly understand what was happening, but so far Draco had not given her anything that she could work with. Since their department secretary had not received any notes or letters for Hermione either, she had to take it up with Theo's Unspeakable colleague again.

Unfortunately, all of Theo's colleagues were rather unhelpful and tight-lipped, taking the mystery in the name of their department a little too seriously. They also did not care for her Order of Merlin or her friendship with the-boy-who-lived… Godric knew she had tried that strategy, although she hated to bring up either one. This time, Theo's colleague had needed the incentive of a minor outburst of accidental rage magic to comply with her wish to check whether Theo's response was somehow stuck with the DoM internal mail. Much to her despair, it was not. There simply was no note or letter from that place, her last saving grace destroyed.

Left with no other options, Hermione took the lift to the lobby and Floo'd home, hoping that in her absence Draco had been able to calm down a little. As the green flames dissipated around her, the living room lay quiet before her, no high-pitched trill-meow to be heard. It seemed almost too quiet.

And it was.

Draco was not in the kitchen.

He was not in her office, either.

The bathroom was empty, as was her bedroom.

"Draco?" The concern for Draco that had permanently settled in her stomach throughout the day, quickly boiled up into panic. Hermione cycled through the few rooms within her flat three more times, until she admitted to herself that he indeed was not there.

As for his whereabouts, she could only think of two options: he had either returned to the Nott Estate or he had gone outside. If he was at the Nott Estate, she could do nothing about it, since Theo only had a handful of people included in his wards, but she was not one of them. According to Theo, the estate was not safe for her while he was absent, too much malicious ancient blood magic woven into the very fabric of the building.

Throwing her flat door open, Hermione began by inspecting the staircase, her eyes darting all over the place. It was only when she was already two streets away, close to the Rose Café, calling out his name and asking passerbys whether they had seen a man with white-blond hair, that a thought crossed her mind. What if he had transformed back into a cat?

An unwelcome image of a white cat lying in the curb of a street, hit by a car, popped up before her inner eye and Hermione shuddered, doubling down on her efforts to find him. She must have looked like a madwoman, running around the streets, her eyes searching both the ground and above her eye level for that familiar shock of white-blond hair, questioning strangers alternately whether they had seen a man or a cat. In her panicked state of mind, she had to have asked one man first about the one and then when he walked past again a little while later about the other, earning her a look as if she had indeed fled from an insane asylum.

Tuesday

The search for Draco had lasted long beyond the early hours of the morning, leading Hermione into every dark alleyway she had avoided so far on her… she had lost count of how many rounds she had already done, expanding the area bit by bit. Her voice was hoarse from shouting his name and her feet hurt from all that running, walking, stumbling.

An onslaught of rain served to worsen the situation for her. Only a couple of especially early risers were walking on the sidewalks, but now, even they did not slow down to answer her inquiries about a blond man and a white cat. She had long given up her alternating questioning, fearing she might risk missing the person who knew about the whereabouts of either. Standing under the canopy of a shop entrance, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, shivering with the cold easily seeping into her soaking wet clothes.

The idea of conjuring an umbrella had not even crossed her mind, all her thoughts centered around ways to find Draco or what might have happened to him. Having arrived at her wit's end, Hermione stood aimlessly in front of the shop, her mind was shouting at her to scour the streets one more time, call the hospitals again, while at the same time, it was whispering that another attempt would end up being unsuccessful. A drop of moisture ran down her cheek and Hermione could not say for sure that it was not a tear. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the drop and let out a shuddering breath. Forcing herself to take deep calming breaths, Hermione gathered her thoughts that were scattered all over the place.

"I have searched everywhere ," she said out loud for her muddled brain to realize it was true. Her shoulders relaxed just a fraction and breathing became easier again.

"Maybe, he's waiting for me at home." Home. Over the past weeks home had come to include Draco. The thought that he might not be waiting for her felt like a rope being pulled tight around her heart.

Nevertheless, her tired feet carried her back through the rain towards her flat. Walking up the stairs, Hermione left a wet trail behind her, but all she cared about was reuniting with Draco. Standing before the door to the flat, her hand already hovering over the door handle, Hermione uttered a silent prayer.

Her prayer, however, had not been answered when she was welcomed by the same silence she had stepped into hours and hours ago, a silence that taunted her with the void of Draco's presence.

Therefore, the only hope that remained was that Theo had written to her, giving her at least a clue as to what might have been wrong with Draco. Although she was fatigued beyond reason, Hermione cleaned up, dressed for work and stepped into the fireplace. Ignoring any greetings from colleagues approaching her for a chat, she made her way towards her office. Her eyes immediately focused on her Order of Merlin to find…

Nothing.

No dark green envelope.

Devastated, she collapsed back against her door and sank down to the floor. There she stayed, her face buried in her hands, only the ticking of the clock and the distant sound of her colleagues walking within the office disturbing the silence. As she sat on the floor, all the horrible scenarios her mind had created for Draco crawled free from deep within her thoughts. All throughout her fruitless search for Draco, the things that could have happened to him in her absence became more gruesome and horrible, ranging from simply passing out to being mugged and stabbed. Up until now, when all hope was lost, she had had the strength to push those thoughts back, to stay positive and soldier on, but she had no energy to do so any longer. Every reassuring "He's fine" she whispered to calm herself was accompanied by another flash of images before her eyes. Hermione did not know how much time had passed, when a knock resonated from the door, followed by the department secretary's firm voice, "An urgent letter from Mysteries for you, Ms Granger."

Ripped from her spiraling imaginations of all the horrible things that could have happened to Draco since his disappearance, Hermione shot up and pulled the door open. The secretary was startled at the sight of Hermione.

"Are you okay, Ms Granger?" Hermione could only imagine how absolutely knackered she must look, but her appearance was of no importance now.

"The letter, Margaret," Hermione demanded, disregarding the concern of the older witch, and held out her hand.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, something Margaret had taken to doing after Hermione had reminded her that she did not need mothering, the secretary handed her the letter and turned around without any further comment. Relief flooded every cell of Hermione's body upon recognizing Theo's handwriting.

Tearing the wax seal open, her eyes quickly scanned the few, brief lines.

Hermione,

Sorry for the late reply.

Draco is with me.

Do not worry.

I will get back to you soon.

Theo

Hermione felt both grateful and angry at the same time. Grateful to know that Draco was not lost and apparently alright, but angry that Theo only deigned to answer her multiple distressed letters with such a short note. As the tension finally left her body, exhaustion took over, rendering every attempt at working futile. Seeing as after reading the note, no other text would make sense to Hermione, the letters blurring into one another, she let her boss know that she would work from home and left.

On the way to the lift, her brain had already found another thought to obsess over: when is soon ?

Hermione cursed Theo for delaying giving her a proper explanation, Morgana , to give her a proper update on Draco's state. Regardless of the quick return of tightness in her shoulder, she had to sleep first.

Exiting her fireplace, Draco's Slytherin green cushion once again reminded her of his absence, the colour in stark contrast with her boring, beige couch. The fabric was soft and smooth to the touch, but could never compete with either Draco's fur or hair. Without thinking long on it, she grabbed the pillow and took it with her to the bedroom. Quickly changing into her pajamas, Hermione hugged the pillow tight to herself, burying her nose into the fabric. Draco's smell still clung to it. This was both soothing and saddening for her, it invoked memories of him in her. With their "promise" that he would stay with her replaying in her mind, Hermione fell asleep.

Although she finally knew that he was safe and being looked after by Theo, Hermione could not stop worrying about Draco. Her first conscious thought after waking was whether he had relapsed. Rubbing her tired eyes, Hermione repeated firmly to herself, "Draco's with Theo and just fine", but the concern only dimmed down in its intensity, remaining in the back of her mind.

Regardless of the little information Theo had provided her, which drove her mad with being left in the dark, Hermione had work to do. Therefore, she pushed her blanket to the side and begrudgingly left the pillow on her bed, for it would only distract her. Pulling on her dressing gown, she trudged into her office.

Since Friday, she had not set foot in her office and surprisingly much had changed. When she had finished reviewing the files with Draco that day, they had left all the files piled into one neat stack. Now, there were multiple piles of varying heights. From afar, she could already tell that new colours had been added to her sticky notes, besides her standard green, pink and orange. As she walked closer, Hermione saw that on top of each bundle were a couple of pages from her college block held together by paper clips, which immediately reminded her of Draco once more.

That of all the Muggle things in her flat, Draco had liked her stationary the best had amused her. She had even played with the thought of getting him his own set, as a sort of parting gift for when the day Theo picked him up came. Back then, that day had been in a far distant future or, since she still held on to the promise made by cat Draco, never.

Now, her fingers traced the outline of the paper clip, marvelling at how neatly he had attached them to the pieces of paper. Hermione took the notes off the first stack and skimmed what Draco had written. From what she read, it had to be a summary of the pile, files clustered around one topic of her research. Taking the next note, she could confirm that Draco had sorted them by topic, penning down the key points and highlighting relations, similarities and differences.

In the middle of her desk, surrounded by files, lay a thick sheaf of paper. In this, Draco had gone to great lengths to write a whole report, each colour of sticky note was accounted for, the problems she still faced were lined out and possible angles of attack described. At the end, he had even put a recommendation in for further research, as well as an analysis of all the Wizengamot members.

This was remarkable. This was the work of hours. This was what he must have been up to when he hid from her.

Despite the tremendous help he had provided her with by preparing all of this, Hermione loathed him for it. They could have accomplished this together .

" Good Godric , Draco, why couldn't you just tell me what was wrong with you?" she whispered frustratedly, as a single teardrop left its hot trail down her cheek and fell on the sheet of paper to smudge his cursive.

Wednesday

Memories of Draco lingered in every room of her small flat: those beautiful silver eyes peered up at her from her bed, waiting for her to lie down next to him, so he could snuggle up beside her; a faint metallic ting ting ting resonated in her hallway; in the kitchen he either stood at the counter buttering toast or sat in his chair, his whole attention on her; he slept on her couch, his relaxed face resembling that of an angel; from the corner of her home office he watched while she worked. Worst of all was her bathroom, where his reverent " Hermione " rang from her shower, echoing throughout the small space. His presence was so strong within the four walls of her home, that it became unbearable for Hermione.

As the green flames of the Floo engulfed her and tore her away from the flat, relief flooded her body, the constant ache in her chest subsiding. Thinking about Draco just hurt. Equipped with her extensive research and Draco's copious notes, Hermione threw herself into her work. Keeping herself occupied helped her forget her worries, at least momentarily. That, however, was exactly the problem. No matter what she did, her thoughts would stray sooner or later, ultimately leading her back to her concern for Draco.

Around noon, she was overwhelmed by her worry and could no longer deny that she would not be able to rest until the 'soon' Theo had mentioned arrived. Unfortunately, no dark green envelope had been sent to her so far. She could write to Theo, but she knew that he was not the kind of person to be hurried along. This left her with the only option of further investigation on her own.

As she had already mulled over what might have caused Draco's 'illness' countless times, consulting an expert was long overdue. An extended lunch break would have to suffice for the time being, as more appointments were scheduled for the Animagus Registration Office quickly turned out to be the wrong point of contact, the witches only caring for the correct filling in of their forms. So, Hermione ventured into Diagon Alley, where she planned to discreetly inquire about irregular behaviour in magical cats at the Magical Menagerie.

The jingle of the shop bell agitated a couple of Grindylows, which sprang out of the murky water of their giant fish tank, trying to bite the offensively loud object. Hermione's eyes were still fixed on the mouths that were filled with tiny sharp teeth snapping shut just inches short of the bell, when something touched her arm.

"Hello there, Hermione", greeted the dreamy voice of Luna Lovegood. "You look a little pale." Cold fingertips brushed over her cheeks before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Luna observed her with that look… that look she always had when analysing a person with just a glance that made any pretense useless.

"I just haven't been sleeping very much for the last few days," Hermione admitted, omitting the cause of her sleepless nights and troubled dreams.

"That won't do. You might want to get checked for Wrackspurts, although you seem quite focused to me," her friend advised, drawing something that looked like onion cuttings from her purse and feeding it to the Grindylows that finally ceased their attack on the bell.

"Happy thoughts help. I'm sure Draco can assist with those." At the mention of her cat , Hermione's mood worsened.

"Actually, I'm here because of him. You see, he's…" An Animagus, stuck with some cat traits, but that Luna did not know… or did she?

"Luna, how did you come up with Malfoy , when you and Ginny visited me?"

"Well, because Draco was there." Luna said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like it had not taken Hermione to walk in on him masturbating, for her to find out.

"So, you knew they were the same?" Hermione still could not wrap her head around how her friend could have known, from the little time they had spent together.

"Of course, Ron told us." As if this was just a casual chat between friends, Luna brought up Ron. Now, that could not be true. Had Ron known of Draco Malfoy , not just a cat she had named thus, living with her, he would have lost it. Ron would have gone completely ballistic.

" Ronald told you?" Hermione asked incredulously, practically shouting Ron's name, earning her a displeased hiss from the Grindylows.

Luna tilted her head to the side and looked at her intently, as if she was debating whether Hermione was infested with Wrackspurts after all.

"If I remember correctly, he called Draco a 'posh and spoiled cat', which I thought was very curious." Luna's version of Ron's voice was horrendous and nowhere near what Ron sounded like. Nevertheless, Hermione took this as her friend's confirmation that cat Draco and Draco Malfoy were separate entities.

Relieved that none of her friends had caught on faster than her, Hermione laughed softly and commented, "That sure sounds like something Ron would say."

Luna dug out another handful of onion cuttings and fed them to the Grindylows while she listed a bunch of random things she did not agree on with Ron, like care for Quidditch equipment, the right way to eat mashed potatoes or shoelace patterns.

"Ah, there you are! This little rascal gave me some trouble, I'm so sorry for making you wait." Millicent interrupted Luna, holding onto a Crup pup that was struggling to get free. "Perfect. The more boisterous, the better he will be in keeping up with the Blibbering Humdingers."

"Okaaaaay." Hermione had to suppress a giggle at Millicent's drawn out use of the vowel. A dead give away that someone was not accustomed to Luna's rather special… Luna-ness . Her friend took the feisty dog out of Millicent's arms, the Crup immediately calming down, wagging its two tails happily, and with a cheerful, "Rolf will bring the Occamy eggs you asked for over on Friday," she was gone. As the door closed after Luna, who left behind an atmosphere of confusion, Hermione and Millicent just stood there looking at the other awkwardly.

At that moment, Hermione had no doubt that, just like her, Millicent was remembering their duel that had quickly escalated into an all-out brawl. While Millicent's lips pressed into a thin line, her brows going upward, Hermione took an unnecessary long breath, considering ways to best start a conversation.

"I hoped you could help me with some questions about magical cats… Millicent." Unfortunately, Hermione only remembered that her classmate had married the shop owner, but did not know his surname. Millicent thankfully did not seem to mind and plastered that typical customer service smile onto her lips.

"Do you already have a breed in mind?" In a couple of steps, they were in the feline section of the shop, where many years ago, Hermione had acquired Crookshanks.

"Um, actually, I already have a cat and hoped you could help me figure out what's wrong with him and suggest some medicine I could buy?" Although Hermione doubted that medicine for magical cats would have any effect on Draco, she was willing to pay for it, as long as she got the expert knowledge she needed, as well.

"Good, shoot then. What's wrong with your cat?" Millicent scratched a Ragdoll below its chin absentmindedly, waiting for Hermione to explain what the problem was with her pet.

"He's usually really cuddly, but we had a little bit of an incident a couple of days ago, where I was a bit of a klutz to be honest. I thought we had made up, but he kept acting strangely," Hermione recited the words she had prepared to best describe what had happened, without mentioning the Animagus part.

"Anyway, during that incident he seemed rather afraid all of a sudden and even hurt himself. Shortly afterwards, though, he was back to normal. Only over the next couple of days he'd be overly affectionate-" Hermione took a breath.

"Well, then I know exactly..." Millicent began, but was cut off by Hermione finishing her sentence, "- one minute and completely withdrawn, the next."

"Oh, that… complicates it. I'm afraid you'll have to tell me more."And so, a long back and forth of questions and explanations commenced between them. In the end, Millicent regretfully had to inform her that she had no clue what was wrong with her tomcat either, saying that his symptoms appeared to be all over the place.

After her trip to Diagon Alley had turned out unsuccessful, Hermione's shoulders sagged noticeably on her way back to the Ministry. When she arrived, she got as much work done as she possibly could, given that her thoughts would inevitably wander back to Draco sooner or later.

Thursday

Her worry for Draco had gradually taken up more space in her mind, and had claimed territory from other topics she should be thinking about. On the third day after his disappearance, sleep evaded her and she lay wide awake in bed. It would still be several hours until her alarm went off. Staring up at the ceiling, Hermione contemplated the gaping hole Draco had left behind, in her life.

After all, he had only stayed with her for three weeks, most of which she had not even been aware of him being an Animagus. Before, Hermione had been absolutely fine living alone in her flat. She had not felt lonely, because she saw her friends often enough, just the right amount, actually, to not feel overwhelmed. Nothing had changed about that, but still, her feline friend turned former classmate had managed to sneakily carve a place for himself.

Without Draco, something was missing. Someone was missing. Someone who would listen to her work stories, really listen. Someone who not only noticed that she overworked, but would take care of her. Someone who she could bounce ideas back and forth with, who could keep up with her. Good Godric , most of all, someone who was that happy every time she returned home. Separately, she could find all of those qualities in her friends. Combined, nobody had yet fulfilled her needs the way Draco had.

Sighing, Hermione grabbed his pillow and hugged it to herself, his fading scent calming her. Driven by her longing for his company, Hermione questioned how she could have accepted him so easily, even after she had found out about his true identity. Sure, he had been pitiful that night they had their short confrontation over dinner, but afterwards she should have resented him for his deception. Instead, her fondness for the cat had quickly transferred to the man.

If she compared cat Draco with catboy Draco, they were basically the same, only with minor differences. With Draco taking his human form, he could finally voice his opinions properly and did not have to rely on meows and howls any longer. What he had gained in using his voice, however, he had lost in physical affection. Although Hermione was not certain whether that could be attributed to his strange ailment. Because after their initial difficulties, they had warmed up to each other again the night she had returned drunk from work. Hermione wished everything could have stayed the same after that fateful, drunken night.

As she reminisced, something struck her as odd. The timing of when her department had received the anonymous donations was conspicuously convenient. And to top it off, the donor had named her cause specifically to profit the most. That she had complained to cat Draco just a few days prior, could not be a coincidence. As the realisation slowly sunk in, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tightly and pressed her nose into his pillow.

When she thought back to how happy and relieved she had been, another thought popped into her head. She had wanted to know who her benefactor was, so she could hug… no, kiss him. Heat bloomed in her cheeks, as she squealed into the pillow. Morgana knew Hermione would have probably not stopped at just that, after his performance on Monday, the images of him holding back from tumbling over the edge, still fresh in her mind.

The pillow went flying across the room, colliding with her wardrobe, as she flung it from herself. His smell only fuelled her brain in conjuring one naughty image after another. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to regain control over her stream of dirty thoughts. Her imagination continued to run wild with what a kiss could have been the beginning to.

Only an ice cold shower could stand a chance of freeing her of those fantasies now. The pitter-patter of the icy water drops hitting her skin, however, mixed with Draco's "Hermione" that she vividly remembered, only crashed to the front of her mind, taking centre-stage. To counteract her rampant imagination, Hermione scrubbed herself more vigorously, her skin going red. Like her first attempt to cool herself down with a cold shower, it only helped to a brief extent, her pupils blown wide as she observed herself in the mirror.

At long last, the memory of him cowering in the corner of her living room, dampened her mood considerably, the worry for him winning over, once more. Her concern for Draco crowded her mind, leaving little space for anything else. As she prepared breakfast, she wondered whether he was eating well. As she fixed the collar of her blouse, she pondered on whether his skin was still red from all the tugging and yanking of his leash. As she stepped into the fireplace, she thought about whether he would return while she was at work. Every last one of her thoughts was laced with at least a hint of worry for him. Not one hour went past that her mind did not reach out for him, speculating as to what he might be doing.

By the end of the day, her questions of "How is Draco?", "Is he still sick?" and "Will we meet again?" were a constant buzz in her brain, like white noise. It was these nagging questions which drove her towards the lifts, pressing the button for basement level nine. If nothing came of it, her little detour would still serve to soothe her conscience. Theo's colleague, who she had already pestered multiple times, could hardly look less enthused upon seeing her.

"Ms Granger," he greeted her, his lips puckering as if the taste of her name did not appeal to him in any way.

Hermione had just opened her mouth to return his greeting and inquire about Theo, when he held up his hand in a 'stop' gesture, cancelling any chance at a conversation. Without even one of the muscles in his face moving an inch, he lifted his finger as if to say 'wait here' and walked into the nearest room, returning shortly with a dark green envelope in his hand. Wordlessly, he handed her the letter, before flicking his wrist twice dismissively, in lieu of a goodbye.

Turning on her heel, she murmured a short, "Thank you," her finger already pushed in the small gap of the envelope, tearing it open unceremoniously. It was finally 'soon' and Hermione could not wait one second longer. Instead of a folded piece of paper, a letter, the envelope simply contained a single sheet of cardstock. An intricate vine pattern adorned the top of the card. There were only a few lines and the fact that it did not start off with, "Dear Hermione," did not sit well with her.

You are cordially invited to a

light supper.

Theodore Nott requests your companionship

on Friday evening,

6 o'clock

at the Nott Estate.

The Floo Network will be open for a thirty minute time frame accordingly.

This explained nothing. Only the rattling of the lift's sliding door closing behind her, drowned out Hermione's frustrated, "Fancy bastard."

Friday

Her workday was a complete blur to Hermione, everything overshadowed by the 'light supper' drawing closer, at a snail's pace. The alarm she had set on her wand had turned out to be completely unnecessary, her eyes practically glued to the hand of the clock in her office, waiting for the time to tick by.

Now, she had to take the last hurdle before Flooing to Nott Estate: choice of attire. On her bed, she had laid out three different outfits, each more formal than the other. Starting from the left, there was her usual skirt and blouse combination, followed by a simple cocktail dress and finishing with a classical long evening gown. From how formal the invitation had been and knowing her friend's tendency towards extravagance, a simple skirt and blouse combination would not do. However, if she was honest with herself, Hermione did not feel like playing by his rules.

He knew that she was worried and yet he had merely sent her an invitation. Thirty-five words was what he had deemed as enough. Two of which were wasted on his name. Anger rose inside her at the thought of her friend probably thinking himself so clever, while she suffered with every minute of her prolonged uncertainty. With her arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping on the floor irritatedly, Hermione made a decision. To hell with Theo Nott! A simple skirt and blouse, it would be! Casting her other choices to the side with a quick flick of her wand, she unceremoniously got the last preparatory step for the evening done. Forgoing any make-up or sophisticated up-do, Hermione grabbed her trusty beaded bag and flung a fist full of Floo powder into her fireplace.

"The Nott Estate."

Hermione stepped out into a candle-lit reception hall like most of these old Wizarding homes had, the flames casting a warm light on the expensive decor.

"My dearest Hermione," Theo greeted her from the top of the stairs to her right, making his grand entrance. Nowhere was Theodore Nott more the Pureblood gentleman than in his own home. To her surprise, he had not dressed up as well, only wearing a pair of black suit pants and a white button-down with jetblack cufflinks. Following Pureblood etiquette he took her hand, which she had not offered, and kissed the back of it. His eyes were surely twinkling up at her with his boyish charm, but Hermione did not pay him any attention. Her eyes were searching the upper landing, anticipating another guest.

"Where's Draco?" she asked, skipping any form of greeting herself, and drew her hand out of his, flexing it at her side. But not even at the mention of his name did he appear, so, Hermione raised one brow at the host.

Despite her distant tone, Theo smirked at her, amusement dancing in his eyes.

" For supper , you'll be my only guest." Worrying her bottom lip, Hermione took his proffered arm and let him guide her to the minor dining room.

"So, after dinner, Draco will join us?" That, hopefully, was the reason for him to stress it the way he had done.

"Oh, he's in no condition to join us." His answer punched the air out of her lungs, all the horrible scenarios she had cooked up over the last couple of days flooding to the forefront of her mind.

Gently, Theo placed his hand above hers on his elbow, his thumb brushing soothingly over the back of her hand.

"Don't fret, Hermione. He is out of the woods. I'd guess one more night or two and he'll be back to normal." His voice carried neither a trace of uncertainty nor an echo of a joke. The light pressure of his hand against hers calmed her down.

"So, what's wrong with Draco?" Hermione inquired as Theo held the door to the minor dining room open for her.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." In response to this evasive answer, she was very tempted to stomp her foot defiantly and demand an immediate explanation. The only thing that would achieve, however, would be for Theo to drag it out as long as he could. Therefore, Hermione would exercise patience. Theo clearly had an itinerary for the evening prepared and would not deviate from it. Thus, Hermione sat down on the chair he had pulled out for her and waited for his next move. While she smoothed down the cloth napkin in her lap, he casually remarked: "I heard that you two got along well."

"Well, that was until Draco got… sick ," she countered, her throat constraining around the syllables. He made a waving gesture and placed his cloth napkin in his lap.

It had been worth the try to trick him into skipping ahead in his schedule, but Theo was not one to budge.

Trying another angle, Hermione noted coldly: "It would have been nice if I had known he was an Animagus from the start, though." At that, the corners of his mouth pulled into a smile and he snapped his finger, a freed house elf entering the room with a bottle of wine.

" That I left up to Draco. After all, it's his secret to share." The house elf presented the bottle to her for approval. The wine was most likely part of Theo's vast wine collection, his cellar filled with a liquid fortune. As she watched the dark red liquid being poured into her glass, Hermione wondered how long Theo would draw out the evening. For now, there was only a soup plate and a spoon laid out before her.

"Draco mentioned that you offered to keep him, should he behave himself." The ring of his name tore her from her musings and her eyes snapped up to look at Theo across the table. Leaning back in the chair, he swirled his wine inside the glass in languid circles.

"As a pet ," Hermione corrected him, knowing full well that secretly she had already extended that promise to catboy Draco.

" Did he behave?" Theo went on, unbothered by her rebuke. Turning his eyes away from his wine, he studied her with a raised eyebrow. As she had come to know him over the duration of their friendship, Hermione knew that should she not answer this question, he would not move their conversation along. Instead, he would find every possible way to return back to the question, until she had satisfied his curiosity.

"He did." That would have to do as Hermione did not want to elaborate on it further. Thankfully, her answer sufficed as Theo nodded his head in agreement.

"Being his confidant for years now, I had no doubt that he would be on his best behaviour. He's such a good boy , isn't he?" The way he stressed 'good boy' almost made Hermione choke on her sip of wine. She quickly set down her glass, dabbing the corners of her mouth with the napkin.

"There are a couple of things you should know first, though." With two taps on the table, he signaled his house elf to start serving the first course.

"Creamy shrimp and crab bisque," the elf announced and with a snap of his long, thin fingers, her plate filled itself with the steaming soup, garnished with shrimps. The first spoonful they both savoured in silence before Theo drew the attention back to himself by clearing his throat.

"As you are definitely well aware, Draco falls a little outside the regular Animagus spectrum. Due to a…" he blew onto his spoon of soup before eating it and continuing, "-unique condition, he has trouble turning back fully ." Hermione stayed silent, only signaling him with a curt nod that she had understood and he should carry on.

"After his mother's premature death, Draco moved in with me. He was rather heartbroken and very withdrawn from anyone else." How Narcissa's death would play into Draco's condition, Hermione did not understand, but she was sure Theo would reveal it, soon enough.

"He spent his days wasting away in the estate, so I advised him to keep himself occupied, to get a hobby. Therefore, Draco studied the magic of Animagus transfiguration. Only later, we would find out ..." Chewing on a piece of shrimp, he took a dramatic pause "... that the prolonged exposure to dark magic had also left its mark on him, although, in a different way. For Draco, the impact was less severe and manifested in an Animagus Transformation Dysfunction."

"So, Draco can't transform back normally?" Hermione asked for clarification.

"That's only one aspect of it. The collar helps with that. It took me forever to work all that magic into the leather." A smile settled on his lips, proud bordering on bragging.

"Another aspect would be his feline tendencies. Hissing and yowling if he's upset. Purring and scent marking if he's affectionate."

"Scent marking?" Hermione thought back to when Lavender had thrown a right fit, rightfully so, after Crookshanks had marked her pillow. Not a very pleasant thought.

"Oh, yes. He'll rub his cheeks in the crook of your neck. Not that it would really smell of much, but he likes to do it for his 'sanity'" Theo airquoted. "It drives him mad when 'his' people smell of others. He stopped doing that, however. I thought it was rather cute."

Hermione gulped down the soup in her mouth, not savouring the taste. Instead, her brain obsessed over the fact that while Draco had lived with her scent-marking had not been a thing of the past. Rather present actually. Every day after work he had scent marked her extensively. At the thought that Draco did this to people he considered his , Hermione felt heat rising from her chest, over her neck and into her cheeks. Embarrassed that Theo would look right through her, she bent her head low and spoke to the soup.

"And then there's also the ears and tail."

"Obviously," Theo deadpanned, not blown away by her observation.

"I meant that he can't hide his feelings because of them." That caught his interest, as his spoon stopped short between his plate and his mouth.

"And when, pray tell, did he try to hide his feelings from you?" Sensing that she had hooked him with her comment, Hermione tried her luck again.

"When he pretended not to be upset about the leash. His ears would lie flat on his head."

Theo's brow quirked up as if to say 'touchè, you won' and Hermione had to suppress a smug smile. The look on his face, however, quickly changed to having an ace up his sleeve.

"Never mind the leash, Hermione."

"Excuse me?" The spoon that had already touched her lips clattered back onto the plate, hot soup splattering across her hand, but Hermione could not care less.

"You interpreted his reaction to the leash all wrong." The evenness of his tone only made the anger boil inside her.

"So, he wasn't scared shitless that I would put it on him?"

"I won't deny that he was scared then, but no. The leash is regularly not meant to constrain Draco. It's an aid."

"An aid ." Apparently, Hermione had to utilize her Luna-conversation-techniques on Theo, who made just as little sense to her as her other friend did.

"Certainly. The leather of its handle is infused with spells." Hermione knit her brows, still doubtful about Theo's claim that the leash served as an aid.

"An aid for what, then?" Slowly, but steadily, Hermione grew tired of Theo beating around the bush. Nevertheless, Theo would not let her rush him. Since she had pushed him, he took time in demonstrating his power. The power he had over their conversation. After all, he had all the answers to her manifold questions. At a snail's pace, he dove his spoon into the soup, brought the spoon to his lips, blew on it, took it into his mouth, savoured it with a theatrical "mmmmh" and only then swallowed. The silence spread between them. Hermione inwardly threw one cuss word after another at him. Theo, having established who would progress the conversation, finally went on.

"Well, while Draco displays only mild feline tendencies, he sometimes struggles with dealing with his animalistic urges. The leash helps to tether him to another human so he can reign those instincts in." If what Theo explained was true, Draco's reaction made little sense.

"Then why was he afraid?" Theo took his glass and twirled the wine, gazing at the movement as if the liquid held the answer.

"Oh, I think Draco was not afraid of the leash itself, but more of what it had made him feel. You had made him completely forget the real purpose of the leash."

"It's supposed to help him, though."

"He's not afraid of the leash itself." Could he never outright just say what he knew, share his wisdom with her poor soul?! Hermione pulled the napkin off her lap and dabbed the corners of her mouth, not that she had eaten much. Her appetite for food was gone. She was starving for information.

"Fine, you got me. What other than the leash scared him?"

"You." She had talked herself out of it a thousand times that he was afraid of her, but now Theo had confirmed it.

"You caused a new feline manifestation in Draco." That did not soften the blow. Despite the knot forming in her stomach, Hermione could not stop from inquiring, "How?"

"Your smell." Her self-accusatory thoughts quieted down in her mind. That certainly had not been one of the triggers she had come up with.

"My smell," she echoed, her voice sounding hollow and far away, "is so repulsive to Draco?"

"Quite the opposite, actually."

"Theo", she chastised, "the opposite of repulsive is appalling and that is just not how he reacted to me." Hermione realized she was wrong, the moment the words sounded out loud. Between the long stretches of Draco keeping his distance from her, he had been glued to her. Yet, another aspect of what he had said would not compute in her brain.

"I didn't change anything, though. I ate the usual. My laundry detergent stayed the same. No new shampoo or body wash. I don't even wear perfume. Even my toothpa-" She could have gone on and on listing all the things that did not change, that could have affected her smell.

" You changed, Hermione."

She shot up, her chair toppling over, and banged her fists on the table. "But I didn't do anything differently!" The outburst had come out of the blue, the accumulation of all her worry and frustration. With a wave of his hand, the plates vanished. Their dinner was officially over. Theo stood and approached her carefully, emanating an aura of calmness. Gently, he grasped her by the shoulders.

"It was your hormones, Hermione." She just slowly blinked at him ."You ovulated." As she remained silent, her brain trying to put together the puzzle pieces he had provided her with, he smiled down at her.

"Believe me, I was just as confused as you are now." A twirl of his fingers and her chair stood straight again, Theo nudging her to sit back down, while he leaned against the table.

"Just like fertile cats, women give off pheromones from their glands. It's to signal their readiness . Men might notice a change in smell, but usually don't. For tomcats, however, it's like a beacon of scent. To put it simply: you sent Draco into heat."

Hermione swallowed thickly. She knew what heat was.

"Draco exercised a grand amount of self-control. Although, in the end, he had to flee, too scared he would succumb to his needs." He summoned his glass of wine and took a big gulp. " Sweet Salazar , the state he was in when I found him."

Hermione called upon what he had told her before: that Draco was afraid of his own feelings. Too bad his feelings for her had been a side product of his Animagus condition. To think that her smell had driven him up the wall in fear he might force himself on her.

"So, you're saying that Draco goes into heat whenever a fertile woman is close by?! That's unsafe." Accusations were brewing at the back of her mind, but she was still preoccupied with Draco.

"Sadly, quite the oversight on my part, I have to admit. Although... " he took a sip of his wine, "it turns out that this is not entirely correct."

Sighing heavily, Hermione grabbed her own glass of wine and took a healthy swig. "So, he's not a danger to women?" This was just too much of a complex mess of a problem for Hermione to wrap her head around.

"Yes, he's not, for two reasons. First of all, I already figured out a solution for the pheromone smell problem. And second of all, I have a very strong hypothesis that it's not all women. It's you ." Again his insistence that it was all centered around her. That just could not be true.

" Me ? What are you basing this hypothesis on?" she challenged him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I ran a couple of tests and none of those affected him, Hermione. For example, Draco couldn't have cared less about Ginny spreading her pheromones all over your flat for hours."

"How is it a tomcat thing then?" Everything he told her was just so contradictory.

"Draco has feline tendencies , Hermione. Not more, not less. No matter what, he's not a cat. He remains a wizard." Draco's Animagus Transformation Dysfunction certainly only made things more complicated.

"And most important of all: he's a Malfoy." Hermione sent a silent prayer to the gods that no ancient bloodline curse was added to the mix.

Grinning at her over the rim of his wine glass, Theo continued, "Malfoy men, you must know, are incredibly loyal. You would have never caught Lucius turn around for another woman. They practically worship their partners. I'd bet a good chunk of my Gringotts gold on this playing into Draco's new manifestation." Her throat had suddenly gone dry, her mouth hanging open at Theo's claims.

"You mean to say…" she tried to summarize what she had understood, but Theo had to finish for her, "... that Draco has chosen you . He may not have admitted it to himself yet, but I think it's true. That's actually why I invited you tonight." Pushing off from the table, he put down his glass, fixing her with a look that Hermione could not read properly.

"If you'll have him, I want you to take him back. Not catsitting any longer, but for real." With his hand stretched out for her to take, he awaited her answer. Although she had held on to her and cat Draco's arrangement, this felt too binding. This was not something that Theo should play the role of middle-man in.

"Please, don't tell me you doubt that the two of you are a good match." The time she and Draco had spent together had been wonderful, but not long enough that she could rule out any conflicts that could have arisen later. Curling her fingers around the armrest of her chair, Hermione held on, reason fighting with want inside her head.

"You disappoint me, Hermione. Draco is a changed man. You have to have noticed. He's not the bigoted bully from Hogwarts anymore. Gone are his sorry excuses, he brought himself to believe he had for not liking you. Trust me, if it had not been for those, Draco would have been on to you in fourth year, at the latest." Still, holding out his hand for her, he leaned closer, lowering his voice into a whisper. "You're smart, strong-willed, driven… everything Draco cherishes in a woman."

Luna and Theo were two of her more perceptive friends. Both had made the same statement: Draco and her would make a good match. But was that enough to take him back? For days, she had wished Draco would just come back, but suddenly doubts plagued her. Hermione had no idea where all the hesitation was coming from. Theo's eyes watched hers intently, trying to read her.

After exhaling a long sigh, he stood tall again, letting his arm fall.

"Ask me how I took care of him." Something about the way he said it, made Hermione feel like she would not like to hear how in the slightest.

"How?" she obliged him anyhow, too curious to hold back.

"I fucked him right through it," he answered bluntly.

This was too private an answer for Hermione's liking. As she tried to turn her head away, Theo caught her by the chin and forced her to look up at him.

"It wasn't the first time we fucked, Hermione. We've done that before, plenty of times. However, it has never been serious and was never meant to last. We both knew that." A sad smile crossed his lips. "It's still quite the disappointment when Draco screams your name instead of mine, though. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. Always Hermione." He let go of her chin, but she could not tear her eyes away from him. His shoulders slumped.

"You're the only person he really wants," he exhaled sharply through his nose and raked his fingers through his curls. "I think he would like your treatment better as well." A smirk played across his lips.

Her eyes blew wide by what he was suggesting.

"You've seen me in Succubus and I've seen you. My report on what you did with Neville was likely the reason Draco reacted so strongly to the thought of you putting the leash on him outside of its 'aid' function. He would have liked that."

Hermione remembered seeing Theo once, but that had been enough to leave an impression on her. It had been the same day she had taken Neville. And while she had tied him to a table to inflict all kinds of torturous pleasure on him with a variety of toys, neither collar nor leash were involved. Theo had fucked his partner so hard, his hand circled around her throat, that the witch had completely forgotten about her surroundings, moaning, screaming and begging for more. The witch's desire had coated her thighs, glistening by the sheer wetness of it. Hermione usually took a slower, more torturous approach with her playmates.

As Hermione remained silent, Theo's features morphed into neutral boredom.

"I'll escort you to the fireplace." Once again he offered her his arm, bringing their evening to a premature close. This had obviously not gone according to his plan.

On the way to the reception hall, Hermione mulled over everything she had learned that evening. Draco's condition and its implications. Draco's restraint as he had fought his need. His need for her. He had suffered for days, putting on a brave front, albeit unsuccessful, so she would not worry. All his suffering had at the same time been because and for her. Her. Such sacrifice was just not sensible, if what Theo had told her were false speculations. There had to be at least a grain of truth.

"Wait!" she called out too loud for how close they were walking next to each other. "I want to see him."

Considering her, Theo halted. For the blink of an eye, one corner of his lips jerked upwards. He changed course and led her down another hallway, stopping in front of a wide set of double doors. "Since Monday, Draco's heat has thankfully cooled down considerably, but I'll have to take care of him again." Now that Hermione knew how Theo took care of Draco, her lower body throbbed involuntarily.

"You mean to tell me, that that is what you planned for me to take part in, this whole time?" Her eyes followed his fingers as they unbuttoned his shirt.

Undeterred from her question, he continued, "I will not force you to do anything. You are free to leave at any time. You have to know, though, that Draco is aware that I've invited you tonight and the possibility of your presence here," he gestured towards the double doors. "Believe me. He's been perfectly lucid when I told him and he's consented to this ." His shirt was completely unbuttoned, a small trail of black hair disappearing beneath his trousers. Taking his wand and moving it up and down in front of her, he cast a silent spell. "His senses are dulled, but a little precaution never hurts anybody. He shouldn't smell you." With that done, he put away his wand and pushed the double doors open. Theo entered, leaving the doors open, in case she changed her mind.

Inside the room, Hermione could see Draco kneeling naked on the floor, his back straightening at the sound of Theo approaching. His cat ears flipped back, trying to take in what was going on around him. Theo had blindfolded him and secured his arms behind his back. Crossed and held in place by several leather fixtures, he could only flex his muscles. Theo's shirt was flung to the side as he unbuckled his belt, quickly shedding his clothes. Kneeling down behind Draco, his legs bracketing the other's, Theo pulled him against his chest, so Draco leaned his head back against Theo's shoulder. As if asking her to make up her mind, Theo turned his head back and fixed her with a challenging look.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Hermione decided that she could leave at any time. The carpet muffled the sound of Hermione's shoes. As she came closer she saw a criss-cross of scars scattered across Theo's back. Still shining red under a thin layer of healing paste. A glance at Draco's hands confirmed that his nails had grown long and pointed. That certainly explained the bondage. She observed Theo running his fingers up and down the metal links of the leash, Draco's chest rising and falling. Her eyes never left them, as she came around, Draco's hard erection now visible to her. A single opaque bead was forming at its tip. He must have been in this state for quite some time. A broad smile spread across Theo's lips as he watched her walk past them and sit down on a very conveniently placed armchair in front of them. A first row seat.

"How are you feeling?" It was just loud enough for Hermione to be able to hear.

"Better… much better," Draco panted, his tail wrapping around Theo's thigh.

"Can you think clearly?" This question was obviously meant for Hermione to know that everything was consensual. Draco nodded his head, melting further into Theo. With a lifted brow as if to say 'you see?' Theo smirked at her as he pressed his flat hand against Draco's abdomen, forcing him to stop squirming.

"You're hard again." Hermione wondered how often Theo had said those exact same words over the last couple of days, a certain familiar quality in the tone of his voice. With one broad stroke, Theo licked up Draco's neck, sucking just below his jaw. A shiver ran through Draco's body and his cock twitched.

"And who are you hard for?" Draco's cat ears rotated as if searching the room, and his nostrils flared, inhaling deeply. Apparently, this search to confirm whether Hermione had joined them or not, took too long.

"Answer me, Draco." He pinched Draco's nipple and did not let go, earning him a sharp hiss.

"Hermione." The sound of her name out of Draco's mouth made her insides clench.

"Should I take care of it for you?" Moving his hand further down, Theo rubbed Draco's tip with one finger, a thread of sticky precum showing whenever he lifted his fingertip off the opening.

"Yes, please ." That Draco's sweet 'please' was now directed at Theo caused a short spark of possessiveness in Hermione. It must have shown on her face, for Theo smirked at her knowingly. In one theatrical move, Theo drew his hand back and swiped his tongue over his finger, collecting the pearly white of Draco's desire for her . A snap of his finger and a matching footrest to her armchair flew to land before Hermione's feet. Nevertheless, it was not meant for her, as Theo shook his head and pushed Draco back into his kneeling position. With his finger hooked beneath the leash's chain, Theo stood up and sat down on the foot rest, leaning back between Hermione's legs to make himself comfortable.

"Do you want me to take the leash?" Theo asked as he slowly pulled on it, guiding Draco closer to his half-hard cock.

"No, I'm fine." Opening his mouth wide and sticking out his tongue, Draco waited for Theo to insert his dick. Merlin , how Hermione wished this display of devotion was directed at her.

"Good boy," Theo purred and leisurely pumped his cock. He rested his head against Hermione's thigh, watching her as she watched them. When his cock was fully erect, he tapped it against Draco's tongue, and warned, "Be careful with your teeth."

Draco's nod fluently transitioned into him bobbing his head up and down. Cycling between this, lapping along the length of the shaft, sucking on the tip and licking Theo's balls, Draco left no piece of skin untouched by his tongue. As Theo leaned forward to let his hand glide over Draco's back to his arse, Draco gagged momentarily on his cock, but did not pull back, Hermione realized that this certainly had not been their first time. Her eyes were fixed on Theo's fingers kneading Draco's cheeks. He alternated between left and right, ghosting over the crevice.

Seemingly growing impatient, the tail wrapped around Theo's forearm and maneuvered his fingers to where he needed them. Instead of giving into Draco's silent pleas, Theo turned his hand and grabbed the base of the tail.

"Don't rush me," Theo chastised and pulled, the tail growing slack around his arm and letting go. Whining, Draco pulled his mouth off of Theo's erection and tilted his head upwards as if to look at him.

"Please." Once more, possessiveness stabbed Hermione like a hot iron poker. Her resulting glare only spurred Theo on. His hand let go of the tail, in favour of Draco's throat.

"Tell me what you want," he commanded.

"Fuck me, plea-", Draco's begging was cut off by Theo squeezing tighter.

"Be honest." His voice turned dark, threatening. Draco shivered in his grasp, his throat constraining around him swallowing. Silence settled over them, filling the room with static. With the tension increasing steadily, Hermione's ears completely tuned in on Draco, waiting for his honest reply. As the duration of quiet between them expanded into the unbearable, there it was, just loud enough for her to hear it, "Hermione."

Theo had heard as well, and let go of Draco's neck to caress his cheek. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Theo's eyes were locked with Hermione's and they shone with delight. This must have been what he wanted to show her. This and more, for he went on, "But you'll have to be more specific, or else I can't help you." At that, Draco stopped rubbing his cheek into the palm of Theo's hand, his ears twitched. First left, then right. Combing through Draco's hair with his fingers, Theo fisted the strands close to his scalp, twisting his wrist.

"We've been through this, Draco," he reminded him, his voice hinting that he was losing his patience. Once more, Draco's ears rotated erratically, searching for her presence. Theo must have considerably dulled his senses, for Hermione's heartbeat sounded like war drums inside her head. Tapping his own ear with the other hand, Theo signalled to Hermione that she should listen closely, not that she needed his advice.

Moments passed with just Draco's panting disrupting the quiet. A long groan escaped his throat and he pulled away, sitting back on his haunches. With his head leant back, a replica of him immersing himself in his memories from when he edged himself in her shower, he uttered her name.

"Hermione." Like it was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.

"Hermione." Like he called upon her in his need.

" Hermione ." Like a worshipper at the altar. By Morgana, she would let him do just that.

"I can never forget that smell. Delicious , she said on Friday." A soft chuckle. "She was talking about the coffee, of course. But that aroma paled in comparison to how downright edible she smelt. I bet even Amortentia doesn't come close." His tongue darted out and wet his lips.

"I craved to taste her right then and there. I wanted to drink her in. I swear I'd never need anything else, ever again. If I -" Whatever he was thinking about next, it must have been pure pleasure, his cock jerking, a new bead of need forming at his tip.

Shallow thrusts into the air hinted at the nature of his fantasies.

"On Sunday,I wanted to bend her over the kitchen counter and fuck her, Fuck her, FUCK her." His thrusts transitioned into a grinding motion. "Once I started, I couldn't have stopped."

The memory of his teeth scraping along her neck replayed in her mind. Had he not restrained himself back then, Hermione would have fucked him . The images of both scenarios battled in her mind for dominance.

"And why wouldn't you've been able to stop?" At Theo's question, Draco's body tensed, his arms struggling against their binding. Caught in his fantasy of what could have happened that morning, Draco moaned and picked up the speed of his grinding.

However, without her wet core to plunge into, there was no friction to stroke his aching cock. Finally, between frustrated groans, he panted "So ripe, so fucking ripe." Theo's low chuckle ghosted against her thigh, his hot breath making her skin break out in goosebumps.

"Ripe for what?" It was all too obvious that Theo already knew the answer to all these questions. Since Monday, he must have asked them countless times, so easily did they come to him. They were all the questions clamouring in Hermione's head, shouting for her to ask them herself.

"For my seed." Changing back to thrusting, Draco mimicked long deep shoves.

Just from watching him, Hermione could feel how fully he would have penetrated her, hitting her cervix with every push. To keep herself from moaning and thus giving away her presence, she bit her tongue, hard.

"I'd have filled her to the brim." If Hermione bit down any harder on her tongue, she would soon taste blood.

"You'd have knocked her up?" The accumulated precum ran down his glans and collected at the rim, soon to drop onto the carpet. Hermione could feel herself grow wet, but with Theo sitting between her legs she could not relieve the pressure.

"Yessss," Draco hissed, his fingers digging into his arms.

So, Draco Malfoy wanted to breed her. For some reason, unexplainable even to herself, that did not trigger any flight reaction in her. All that occupied her mind was the thought of how his hot cum would be running down her inner thighs. The drop of precum fell and Theo's arm shot out, catching it in the palm of his hand. Before he could steal another from her, Draco's desire rightfully hers, Hermione grabbed his wrist and pulled it up to her face. While she lapped the proof of Draco's want for her off Theo's hand, she held his gaze. He should know that he would not receive even one more drop. All of it was hers, as Draco had told them at the very beginning. Theo did not seem to care, the contrary actually, as his pupils blew wide and he began stroking himself again.

"So, that's what you really want?" Whether the question was directed at Draco or herself was hard to tell. The decision that she wanted Draco was set in stone for Hermione. How she would take him remained the only open question. She was just about to answer, when Draco's "No" let any words die in her throat. This could not be true. The ever growing list of things she would do to Draco that had unconsciously formed at the back of her mind crumbled. Her disappointment must have been written plainly over her face, for Theo lifted one finger, indicating that she should wait.

A deep blush had settled onto Draco's cheeks as he held his head straight again.

"I want what you told me about. What she did at the club." With club, Draco had to mean Succubus . What Theo had witnessed her doing at the club were all her favourite techniques to drive a wizard mad, edging him close to insanity, until all he could do was beg. Beg for her mercy. If this was what he truly desired, Draco wanted Hermione to dominate him, then she would accommodate those wishes. A satisfied smile graced Theo's lips as he peered up at her.

"I guess that's settled then." He gestured for her to take over, to take the lead. That she would do, but she would not be sticking to Theo's prearranged plan. Instead of revealing her presence, she reached for the lube on the side table and handed it to Theo, who took it from her with a look of intrigue. With a curt nod of her head, she beckoned him to go on. He pulled Draco back down, guiding his panting mouth over his arousal.

"I'll help you." Just like Hermione wanted, Theo went on as if she was not there. His fingers coated in lube, he bent over Draco's back and eased first one, then two fingers into him, preparing him for penetration. Theo was meticulous in spreading him, taking his time. Whenever Draco choked too loudly on Theo's cock, Hermione would give his hair a brief sharp tug to communicate her dissatisfaction.

As soon as Theo deemed Draco ready, he fisted his hair and pulled him off of his cock, now glistening with Draco's saliva. Draco's pained hiss was met with one of Theo's as Hermione mirrored his motion, forcibly yanking on his hair. Shooting him a warning glance not to treat her Draco that roughly, Hermione let go of his hair. After a short nod in acknowledgement, Theo went back and took his position kneeling behind Draco. Holding Draco upright by his hips, Theo ground against him, his cock gliding through his crack, prodding his entrance.

"Please," Draco keened, a plea she knew was actually meant for her, but for now Hermione was sure Draco had given up any hope that she had joined them. Exactly how she wanted him to. Watching Draco squirm, although it was against somebody else, lit her nerves aflame, her own want pooling between her legs.

Over Draco's shoulder, Theo raised a brow, asking silently for her permission to proceed. A nod of her head sufficed and he pushed into Draco all the way, until he bottomed out. Despite his resounding hiss, Draco wrapped his tail around Theo's waist to hold him fully sheathed inside himself. Reading her lips, Theo praised him, "Good boy", for taking him so well. With feather light taps against the armrest, Hermione dictated the rhythm.

All throughout Theo would ask Draco questions, eliciting one confession after the other out of Draco, between panting breaths and lustful cries. There was no doubt left, that Draco would have breeded her, creampieying her until he could not come any longer, shooting every last drop of his seed into her deepest depths. His obsession with her taste went as far as him proclaiming that he would gladly eat her out for each meal of the day: breakfast, lunch and dinner. As long as it was her, he would abstain from masturbation, wishing she would choose how, when and how often he could come.

It did not take long and Draco was a whimpering mess, captive of the fantasies Theo had put into his mind, every last one of them, fantasies of her. Following Hermione's silent instructions of finger taps and hip rolls of her own, Theo had gotten Draco close time and time again. Beads of sweat shone on Theo's forehead from the exertion it had cost him, not to come himself, a couple of times.

Nevertheless, Hermione felt no pity for him. Instead, she felt satisfaction, wanting to punish him for all the worry he had caused her. At times, she had caught him searching for his own pleasure, not exactly deviating from her given rhythm, but increasing his force. How he could have thought that she would not notice, by the loud slapping sound of his hip hitting Draco's arse was beyond her. Hermione had been quick to cease such behaviour, halting her finger and directing Theo in agonisingly slow, shallow thrusts.

Draco's cries of "Hermione!" - never once Theo - intersected with decreasingly coherent begging of "please" and "so close", were like hymns to her, sung for her pleasure only.

As Draco's vocabulary was reduced to a singular word, "close", Hermione stood from her armchair, maintaining the rhythm with taps against her hip. Behind his blindfold, she could only guess as to what his eyes might look like. She needed to see them for herself. But first for the grand reveal.

"Don't you dare come, Draco. I didn't give you my permission," she whispered the command into his ear and tightly closed her fingers around his shaft just below his glans. A guttural groan broke free from his throat and every muscle pulled taut, trying to keep from going over the edge. Swearing, "... clamping down so hard…" under his breath, Theo pulled out of Draco and merely steadied him with his hand bracketing his hips.

As she wandlessly lifted the suppressant spells off herself and Draco, bringing his senses back to full potential, he howled, thrashing in Theo's hold. The onslaught of sensations threatened his perseverance. Through clenched teeth, he continued to press out "closecloseclose."

"Ssssh, hold on," she soothed him.

" Hermione ," he sobbed, his tail wrapping painfully tight around her forearm, keeping her hand in place. Just a little longer, and he had braved the edge, sagging forward into her.

His nose pressed into her neck, taking deep breaths, moaning with every inhale, a shiver running through his body.

"Good boy," Hermione cooed, patting his matted hair. She gave him time to drink in her scent until the trembles subsided and his tail released her from its grip. Letting go of his cock, she stood tall, Draco nuzzling against her stomach, whispering her name like he still could not believe she was actually there. To confirm that this was no fever dream, conjured by his ardent longing for her, Hermione unlatched the blindfold. Blinking rapidly, his eyes quickly adjusted to the candle light.

"You're here," he breathed, his gaze hot and dark. Kneeling on the floor before her feet, peering up at her like she was the only woman for him, he looked beautiful.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Never stopping to caress him, Hermione smiled down at him. "I promised I'd keep you if you behaved. And besides, leaving without even the slightest notice, you've done so well. So, I've come to convince myself whether you can continue being good for me. That is, if you still want to hold onto our promise?"

Without hesitation, he declared, "I'll be good. I promise." His readiness and eagerness let power surge through her body, prickling along her nerve endings.

"You'll have to show me." His gaze never strayed from her. As if in a trance, he watched as she unbuttoned her shirt. A short, sharp exhale delighted Hermione as she pulled down the zipper of her skirt, shimmying out of it.

While she had opted out of dressing extra fancy for the dinner, she had not opted out of her more provocative option of lingerie. Of course, she had never planned for a spontaneous threesome with Theo and Draco to happen. However, the look of awe on both of their faces was definitely worth it, the knot inside her pulling tighter. The black set was one of her favourites for exactly this reason. The balconette bra supported and presented her breasts nicely, her nipples just barely visible through the lace. Holding up her thigh-high stockings, the garter belt accentuated her slim waist perfectly. A tiny piece of fabric, her Brazilian panties, completed the set. Of this last piece, she had to get rid, as wonderfully as it might fit her.

Carefully she unclipped her stockings, making sure they followed each of her moves. Tracing along the waistline of her panties, her fingers had not reached the middle yet, where she planned to dip in shortly. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed that Theo had started rocking against Draco, probably pushing ever so slightly onto his entrance. With every grind, Draco exhaled a little stronger. His eyes, though, remained fixated on her fingers.

"Did you hear her, Draco? You have to sho-" In a flash, Hermione lifted one finger, cutting him off. She had certainly appreciated him coaxing all those fantasies out of Draco, but now that she had stepped onto the stage she would not be outshined. The attention back on her, Hermione's fingertips continued their path along the edge of her panties, skipping over her core.

For all her love for teasing, Hermione was growing impatient. Restricting herself to only watching, even indicating their rhythm, had not been enough. She needed this just as much as they did. The clip on the other side was disconnected way less carefully than the first, making way for her to discard her panties.

"Will you hold on to these for me, Theo?" Her insides fluttered around nothing as he stupidly held out his hand for the piece of fabric, expecting her to put it there.

Hermione, however, had another place in mind.

"Uh-uh, open your mouth." Hesitating momentarily, he gradually did as he was told and she shoved her bunched up knickers inside. "I've heard enough from you tonight."

Despite her effectively telling him to shut up, he snickered. Now that she had dealt with Theo, Hermione turned back to Draco. His gaze had only increased in intensity. A reverent devotee praying to his goddess.

"I'll take you home. Under two conditions. One:" she lifted a single digit," you'll make me come." A deep groan forced its way out of his mouth, his body straining against Theo's hold as he leaned in closer.

"And two:" a second finger joined the first, " you won't come until I allow you to do so." A tremble ran through his body, and Hermione had no doubt that should she command him at this moment, he would obey her.

"Agreed?" Her lips pulled into a wide smile, knowing full well that Draco would not disagree.

"Anything for you, Hermione." Anything . She already had a long list of anythings in mind for when they had all the time in the world, but first things first. The arm bindings had to go, not because Hermione disliked bondage, quite the opposite, but because she wanted to make sure that Draco would not hurt her. Judging from Theo's scars, this could be a real issue.

"Don't," Draco gasped as she opened the first buckle, his breath hot against her neck, "I might hurt you."

And while Hermione feared that he might speak the truth, she believed that his willingness to do anything for her, was greater than his urge to do anything to her.

"You'll do no such thing. You'll be good for me. My good, good boy." From the floor, she picked up his leash, wrapping her fingers around the handle. If Draco was grounded through her, any desire was true and not just his instincts' force. His responding whimper was like music to her ears. A couple of twists and turns later, his arms were freed, still bearing the imprints of the leather bindings. Instead of rubbing any lingering soreness from his arms, Draco immediately reached for her.

With his hands, he circled her waist and held her close. Pressing his nose into her skin, he breathed her in, chanting, "I'll be good" into her skin. As he threatened to drown in her scent, almost forgetting the task at hand, Hermione threaded her fingers through the hair at the base of his nape and gently pulled him from her.

"We shouldn't forget about Theo. Now's not the time to be selfish. He's taken good care of you and you'll show yourself grateful," she reminded him, watching Theo's pupils blow wide, a hungry glimmer in his eyes. Without her having to instruct him any further, Draco let go of her and spread himself for Theo.

"Please fuck me to your heart's content." Theo did not have to be asked twice. His fingers digging deep into Draco's hips, he hauled Draco back towards himself and plunged back inside. As Theo began to fuck Draco in earnest, deep and hard thrusts, Hermione reattached her stockings. Draco's face screwed up in a mixture of pleasure and restraint, such a beautiful sight. All because of her. All for her. Anything for her.

"Now eat me out like you told Theo you'd love to do for every meal of the day." A silent spell pushed the armchair closer, so she could sit back, her legs propped up onto the armrest. This way her glistening cunt was presented to Draco like on a silver platter, ready to dive in.

"Yes, mistress," he replied earnestly, Hermione's core swelled with the rush of power. Out of all honorifics, he had chosen her favourite.

Draco did not hesitate at all. His first lick was a broad stroke from her entrance up to her clit. A satisfied grumble resonated against her labia as Draco feasted on her. Plunging his tongue deep into her, he practically scooped her essence into his mouth, hungry for her taste. Every lick, suck and stroke would wind her up tighter.

Encouragement and praise made him take his efforts up a notch, the speed and pressure of his ministrations surpassing anything Hermione had ever experienced. Slowly digging into her thighs, the sharp point of his claws piercing through her stockings reminded her that she was not the only one getting thoroughly fucked. Theo held Draco's hips in such an iron grasp, that he would without a doubt leave his mark. Holding onto her own edge a little longer, Hermione watched as Theo drove into Draco, bottoming out in him with each push. Draco's reaction to this rough treatment was mirrored in spasms of his fingers and searing grunts onto her drenched cunt.

"Please, look at me." The sweet tortured sound of his plea made her eyes snap back to him. His chin was dripping with her arousal, his tongue running along his lips to collect each drop he could get. The silver ring of his irises never broke contact with her eyes as he went back to tongue fucking her. The way he peered up at her reflected exactly the kind of devotion she craved, like a mantra of: 'Anything. Anything. Anything for you.'

Draco chose that moment of appreciation to pay her clit special attention: sucking, circling, licking. Her toes curled inwards and her hips bucked up as her hand pulled him even closer against her. A blinding light exploded behind her eyelids as the tight knot inside her unraveled, the orgasm taking over. Crying out his name, her whole body spasmed, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through every last one of her cells.

Everything went quiet around her, only the sound of her blood rushing inside her ears. Gradually, her surroundings registered with her once more, starting with Draco's begs of, "May I come? Please, may I?"

Theo had looped one of his arms around Draco's upper body, using his shoulder as leverage to pull him against himself. His pace was fast and punishing, Draco was clearly close to coming, his brows wrinkled in effort.

"You want to come?" From her angle she could look at both Draco and Theo at the same time. Draco answered with a pained "yes, please ", almost drowned out by Theo's grunts, who gave a nearly unnoticeable nod of his head.

"Go on then," she gave her permission, her lips pulling into a wide smile, and spread her labia with two fingers, suggesting for him to shoot onto her creamed folds. At the sight of her presenting herself to him like that, Draco groaned, a vein standing out on his neck. In no time, he was pumping himself like mad, the shine of overflowing desire present in his eyes. How she endeared to see it, she would never be able to explain.

Behind him, Theo's thrusts grew erratic, pistoning into him in less and less controlled patterns.

"Come for me," she commanded, her hold on the handle of his leash tight. A long cry, her name drowning out every other sound, and Draco's abs pulled taut. The muscles in his thighs trembled as his hot seed splattered all over her lower body.

"Good boy," Hermione praised, letting go of her labia and bringing her fingers up to her face. He had come so much on them, aiming for her core. Turning her wrist, she watched as the white drops ran down her fingers. Before they could fall, she cleaned her fingers with her tongue, making sure she got every last pearl.

Theo followed soon after, roaring around her knickers, pulling Draco's slack body against him while he released his sperm inside him.

"You're quite something, Hermione," Theo huffed, after he had spit out her panties. Draco was draped over him, whispering, "thank you" in post-orgasmal bliss. Both were still trying to regain their breath, when Hermione tsked and laughed.

"You're one to talk," she shot back at her friend, collecting the stray cum from her stomach to lick it off her fingers. Releasing her thumb with a pop, Hermione stood up and summoned her clothes.

"As fun as this has been, I think we're overstaying our welcome. I'll take Draco home with me." The word 'home' was enough to bring Draco back to his senses, his ears standing at attention and his tail giving a happy flick.

Pulling out of Draco with a groan, Theo stood up as well. "Let me just quickly grab his things for you." With only her and Draco left inside the room, Hermione felt more comfortable. Reaching out to scratch him behind his ears, he eagerly stretched his head towards her. His resulting purr warmed her heart.

"How are you, Draco?" she inquired as he snuggled up against her.

Instead of answering her, he merely breathed "You're here. You're really here."

"I'm here for you , Draco. I'm taking you home." Gently, she pulled at his hair, angling his head back, so she could press a kiss onto his forehead, earning her an appreciative sigh from him. His eyelids fluttered open and he gazed up at her.

"I missed you." The confession made her heart clench, the same sentiment resonating deep within her.

"I was worried sick about you." She cupped his face in her hands and bent down, so their foreheads met.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." At her side, his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into her skin.

"Promise me, you'll never do something like this again." If he could not, Hermione was uncertain whether she could keep hers.

"I promise."

"You'd better keep your word." So far, she had been indulgent with him, seeing as they had no contract detailing expectations and punishments should those not be met. But as soon as they had, he would better behave or else come to regret his actions. Giving him the benefit of the doubt until then, she would assume that he would not hurt her like this again.

They kept gazing at each other, having said what had weighed on their hearts, until Theo interrupted them by clearing his throat. Clad in a dark green velvet dressing gown, he leaned against the doorframe, a leather travel bag standing at his feet. His raised brow and amused grin, hinted at something along the line of, 'you two should get a room' like their threesome had not just ended mere minutes ago.

"Let's get dressed and go home." The leash gave a short 'click' upon unfastening it from the collar, its aid was no longer needed. Scourgify rid them of the worst superficial dirt and bodily fluids. They got dressed in silence, Theo already going ahead into the reception hall. Except for a short goodbye and thank you, no further words were exchanged between the three of them, Hermione quickly following Draco inside the fireplace to Floo to her flat.

Crowded together in her much smaller hearth, Hermione did not have to raise her voice for Draco to hear her "Welcome home." Steadying herself with one hand on his chest, his purr vibrating under her touch, Hermione pushed up onto her tiptoes and kissed him, for the first time. His lips were soft and warm. Traces of her taste still lingering on them, Hermione hummed. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, but she would not let him push inside.

Now that he was back home with her, they had all the time in the world and Hermione planned on savouring their togetherness. Melting into his embrace, Hermione basked in his warmth. Their mouths moved languidly against each other, sighing and humming in delight whenever they separated shortly. From her hips, his hand slowly wandered down to her butt, massaging her pert cheeks. As he began grinding against her, she pulled back.

"We've played enough for today." With both hands on his chest she gently pushed him back. Her palm glided up the plane of his chest, over his neck and onto his cheek. Soot had drizzled onto them, painting grey freckles all over his face.

"For tonight, I want to take care of you. How about we take a bath together?" She swiped at some grime, but only managed to make it worse. "You could scent mark me afterwards." He closed his eyes and rubbed his face into the palm of her hand, purring in satisfaction.

"Tomorrow, we can talk about rules, then."