Song suggestion: Jynjo- "How do you Like it" (ft. Spritely)

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, because this chapter is a rare gift of 8k words. My chapters are usually in the 4k range, so it's like getting two chapters in one. This was a beast to edit in a week.

A/N: There is something in this that I'm reusing from Brand New World. If you've read it, you'll be able to recognize it.

My beta, MyPrivateInsanity, is the best! Without her, I would not have been able to finish editing this within the week.

Truth or Dare

"You can't ignore me forever." Titus sat in the quidditch stands next to Hermione while waiting for Theo's game to begin. The other parents and students kept a wide berth from them, probably sensing the tension.

She decidedly could ignore him.

Hermione pulled her cloak tighter, attempting to block out the icy wind. High in the stands, it felt unrelenting, despite warming charms. It was a miserable day, and if it wasn't for the anticipation of what may come later with Draco, she'd have preferred to stay at home, inside, like any reasonable person.

Hermione stared at Draco as he did flips and rolls in the air, practising catching the snitch. Her eyes couldn't tear away from the long, lean lines of his body. A sharp desire shot through her, remembering how it felt as his rough hands slid up her thighs.

Today, the Slytherins faced off against the Ravenclaws—the last game before the winter holiday. The Slytherins weren't supposed to have a game so close to the last one, but the schedules had been rearranged. Hermione suspected the Malfoys had a hand behind that.

"It's been days since you've talked to me, Sprite." Titus turned his face to look at her. "I'm not angry anymore, and I miss you." He tried to grab her hand, but she tugged away, not wishing to be soothed by him. He flexed his hand in agitation. "Look, I know why you stole the books. It must seem unfair to be denied knowledge, especially to someone that loves it like you do. Just—try to see it from my perspective." Titus touched the strap of her purse. She wore it today on purpose to see if he'd take it away. Nothing was in it but a few approved books and some snacks. "It really is a clever bit of magic. I wasn't lying when I said I was impressed."

When she still didn't respond, he made a noise of frustration and turned forward.

She waited until the anger forced her to speak.

"You yelled at me," she decided to say.

Titus didn't respond for a moment, as if trying to structure his thoughts.

"Are you really angry at that, or are you angrier I took away the books?"

"Both. I'm excellent at multitasking."

Titus sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, as if to massage out some tension.

"I won't apologise for taking back stolen books, but I shouldn't have yelled at you, even if I was angry." He touched her hand, gently threading their fingers together. This time she didn't have the strength to tug it away. She really didn't even have the strength to stay mad. It was hard ignoring such an important person in her life. "I know my yelling scared you, and the thought of you ever being scared of me makes me feel terrible."

Hermione took a deep breath.

"After the game, can I explore the castle with Theo?"

Titus searched her face as if to find the trick.

"If I let you, will you forgive me?"

"I don't know."

"Please, Sprite," he said. "I don't like you looking at me like that, as if— I'd never hurt you. You know that, right?"

The whistle blew, signalling the start of the game.

"Fine," she said. "If you let me explore the castle with Theo for as long as I'd like—without hovering over us—I'll attempt to forgive you." She might as well get what she wanted, since she'd probably forgive him soon anyway. Keeping her anger burning took a lot of energy, and she didn't know how much longer she could hold it without caving in, especially with the gentle way he held her hand, keeping it warm from the icy wind.

He leaned over and brushed a kiss to her cheek, leaving the scent of cinnamon behind.

"Deal. I'll take you shopping tomorrow too. I've already taken off work to spend the day with you."


Theo brought her to the astronomy tower again.

"I really don't know what Malfoy planned," Theo said when she tried to get information out of him. "All I know is he stole Harry's invisibility cloak this time. Maybe you could get that back like you did the map. It's his father's, you see, and a family heirloom. He'd get in massive trouble if he lost it."

"Of course," Hermione said. "But Harry needs to start being more mindful of his things around Draco."

Theo dug around in his pocket and took out the map he referenced.

"Harry let me borrow this," he said, blushing when she raised her eyebrow at him. "I needed something to make sure Titus doesn't find me here alone. I'd be flayed alive."

She gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Have fun," he said. "Make sure you put him in his place a time or two."

"You don't need to worry about that." Hermione flicked her hair off her shoulder. "It's my speciality."

She climbed the rickety stairs to the astronomy tower, even as her stomach swooped in protest against the idea of being so far above the ground - much higher than the treehouse.

Draco waited for her at the top, giving a wicked grin that made her stomach flutter. He had a book bag over his shoulder and held a broom in one hand and a cloak in the other—Harry's cloak.

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise."

Hermione didn't like surprises. She liked to anticipate things. The unknown annoyed her. She glared at the broom in his hand, not liking the conclusions she jumped to.

"I'm not sure you know this, but I don't participate in broom travel."

"Oh, I know that," he said with a nod. "Unfortunately, there's no other way to get there." He held out the cloak. "Here, put this on."

She grabbed it, liking the feeling of the fabric under her fingers, and wrapped it around her on top of her other cloak, flicking the hood up, only letting her face peek through.

"Wicked!" Hermione looked down to find her body had vanished. "This is a much better cloak than the one Titus has. I wonder how it's lasted this long. Invisibility cloaks rarely survive more than a few years. It's an heirloom of Harry's, correct?"

Draco hesitated, as if wondering what her reaction to it would be.

"Correct," he finally said. "I'm afraid you won't be able to take this one out from under my nose. I wanted to spank you when I discovered your last little trick with the map, and I'm not sure I could control the urge a second time."

A blush raced across her cheeks at the thought of being bent over Draco's knee, his hand coming down on her arse. In all her different fantasies, she'd never thought of that before.

"We'll see," she said.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, hop on." He straddled the contraption, leaving enough room on the back for her.

"Not in a million years. You'll just have to create some other date."

He smiled. She smiled back. He smiled bigger. Then her smile died, knowing what he planned. But it was too late to avoid it.

He kicked off with a jolt and propelled forward, swooping her up and behind him. She barely had enough time to place her arms around his waist before he barreled into open air.


After four barrel rolls, three sharp dives, and two swift turns, Draco heeded her panicked cries.

"Put me down!" Hermione's voice was hoarse from screaming. Freezing wind whipped against her face.

Still metres from the ground, she jumped off the broom, braving a broken neck from the tumble rather than one more second in the air. She hit the ground hard, but after a moment of laboured breathing, she stood without any injuries.

"Are you insane?" Draco landed and jumped from his broom with grace, going straight into a walk.

When Draco reached her, he grabbed her by the shoulders and began to pat her down.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking for injuries, you silly bint." His hands ran down her arms, then down her waist, then slower down her legs. She held her breath the entire time.

"I'm fine." She stepped away from him.

Hermione examined the small circular glade they'd landed in. The thick trees of the Forbidden Forest surrounded her like menacing guards, and a line of black obsidian sat against the tree line—a protection against dark magic and nefarious intruders. She felt the hum of blood wards from here. Violets and Queen of the Nights sprung from the ground, opening their purple petals to the sky in an ancient worship of the sun. Hermione did the same, flinging back her arms and turning her face upward, taking a long drink of the surprising warmth. Life and magic buzzed around her.

"Where are we?"

"My great great grandfather created it," Draco answered, staring at her joy in an intense way. "He wanted a safe space for his heirs if Hogwarts ever fell during a war, but really it's only been used for— well, for things just like this."

Draco leaned back on his heels, then stood, shrugging off his outer robes. Warming charms must have been embedded in the wards, because it felt like a wonderful late spring day in the middle of winter. She took off both the cloaks, finding it too hot.

Malfoy opened the bag and began rummaging through it, lifting out more items than it could reasonably hold, showing it must have a charm on it similar to her purse.

A blanket came out first, and then several pillows. From the colours, he'd probably pilfered them from the Slytherin common room. The food came next: fresh fruit, fried fish, butterbeer, rolls. And every assortment of dessert: chocolate frogs, dainty tea cakes, pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes.

When he'd finished setting up, Draco sat down on the blanket and patted the spot next to him. She walked over, attempting to control her heart rate, which was rising the longer she spent in Draco's presence.

"You planned a picnic?" Hermione asked while sitting down, letting a smile peek through. "Is this what people normally do on dates?"

He stared at the smile she gave him and paused.

"I'm not sure, but I'm hungry."

The desire for talk vanished as they devoured the food, eating each dish with exultation. The longer she sat in the sun, the farther her guard came down.

If a person would have told her as a child that she'd be sitting in a secret glade with Draco Malfoy eating strawberries in compatible silence, she might have packed their bags and sent them to St. Mungo's Janus Thickey Ward. But here she was…

Draco started off on the other side of the blanket, food set between them, but by the end of the meal he was lying dangerously close to her lap, a book open in one hand and a struggling chocolate frog in the other. The light of the sun played beautifully off his pale features, and she tried not to notice the way his unfairly long eyelashes brushed his face with each blink, or that up close she could see almost translucent freckles scattered across his nose.

When he noticed her examination, he squinted up into the sun. He brought the strings down to save his place before closing his book. She appreciated how gently he handled books. Theo always saved his spot by leaving the book open, pages down, often tragically ruining the spine.

Draco grabbed her hand. The skin-to-skin contact felt like a jolt. On instinct, she almost tugged her hand away, but his hold was gentle, so she let him cradle it as he studied her palm. With his index finger, he traced the lines in contemplation and followed the one which curved down.

"You have a long lifeline."

Hermione hated divination and thought all of it to be hogwash. She couldn't quite read if Draco was being serious or not.

"I never took you for the type to believe in fate," she said.

"Of course I believe in fate. If you haven't figured it out yet, we're meant to be together. A million different lifetimes, and I think it would always be you and me."

How ridiculous.

"That makes it sound as if we love each other, which—I can assure you—we do not. I just barely tolerate you."

He scoffed.

"Of course we don't love each other. That will come with time. I doubt you can resist me for long."

He was so sure and confident. She wished to bring him back to reality.

"You have a third of a chance," she said. "That's fairly good odds, but I hardly believe we're fated."

He frowned, ignored her, and kept tracing. "You encompass great wisdom and knowledge." He squinted again. "So far nothing surprising. And see this one—" He showed her the line on top. It was deep and dark and long, as if a great scar on her palm, "With that heart line you could have been in Hufflepuff."

"I'm not sure if that was a compliment or an insult."

"An insult for sure."

"For your information, I'm entirely Gryffindor."

He gave an exaggerated grimace.

"That's worse."

She swatted his arm in mock outrage. In retaliation, he laughed and gripped her wrist - and in a single motion, flipped her onto her back so he was hovering over her. They both stopped, still as statues, sensing a change in the atmosphere. He'd straddled her waist, bent down enough that his mouth was next to her chin. His lips just barely brushed the skin, teasing, gentle, until he made his way to her lips. This felt different from the last time, slower, more serious. Like he could explore her skin all day and never feel sated.

It scared her. Hermione made a noise and jerked away. Draco stopped and looked down in confusion.

"Are you alright?"

"This is…"

Too much, too fast. She had planned for physical interactions: backs against stone walls, hands roaming, lips ravaging her in passion. Anything to do with real emotions was dangerous, because she refused to fall for someone she'd need to say goodbye to.

He wrinkled his brow, lips almost pulling into a sneer. He seemed to catch on to her thoughts, because he lifted away from her, leaving her oddly cold, even with the sunshine.

She'd hurt his feelings with her sudden rejection. Another surprise—Draco Malfoy had feelings that could be hurt.

He moved to the other side of the blanket, studying her. He wore the same type of piercing stare Titus did, as if he was trying to view into her mind and rip out her secrets.

Draco reached back into his bag, pulling out two tumblers and a bottle of firewhisky.

"Care for a drink?"

Hermione hesitated but nodded. She'd never tried alcohol, except for a glass of wine.

He poured the amber liquid into a glass and handed it to her. She sloshed it around for a second before downing it in one gulp. It burned through her, making her gag with the unpleasant taste.

"That's foul. How do people drink this stuff for fun?"

Draco raised one eyebrow.

"You might want to go slow. This is the good stuff. It comes from my own stores. If you're not careful you'll get—"

"Drunk? Isn't that the point?"

He tilted his head to the side, considering her. In answer, he tipped his own glass back and downed it.

"Sure, but I doubt Titus would be too happy if Theo returned you to him sloshed."

He was right. The stuff was potent. The fire already bloomed in her belly, travelling through her veins— just enough to feel relaxed.

"Well, you needn't worry." She gave a shiver of disgust. "I refuse to take another swallow of that poison. You can punish yourself with the rest."

"Fine with me. Not everyone can have a developed palate," Draco teased, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you want to play a game?"

"Chess again?"

A smirk curled Draco's lips, and Hemrione knew he was up to no good.

"I have a different game in mind."

"What?"

Draco fiddled with his wand, letting it twist through his fingers.

"Truth or dare."

"The children's game?"

"No, the adult one."

Wizarding truth or dare—the same game Theo was stupid enough to get entangled with. It was illegal for minors to play because the consequences were serious. She'd heard of a woman whose hair had fallen out permanently. But that was a minor consequence. Most of the time, cowardice and lying resulted in disfigurement, pain, or even death in rare cases. It wasn't something to just play.

"That doesn't sound fun at all."

"Scared?" He taunted. "I thought you just said you were a Gryffindor."

Why did he always make her feel mildly violent? He knew the right words to get her to play. It was manipulation, and she sighed, knowing he'd already won. She should absolutely not be playing truth or dare with Malfoy. He was far too clever and determined, already planning his next move and contingent move in advance.

"Alright."

"Then hold out your hand, so we can play this properly."

She hesitated but reached out. He gripped her wrist, turning it over, saying the truth or dare incantation, binding them into a contract until the game was finished. "We'll complete three rounds," Draco said, looking dangerous. "And the consequence for not complying with the rules is that you'll feel like you'll need to sneeze without being able to sneeze… for an entire month."

The magic sizzled into her skin, a warning. Afterwards, she tugged her hand back.

"That's quite possibly the most diabolical consequence I've ever heard," Hermione said, rubbing at her wrist.

"I can be creative when it comes to cruelty, so I'd advise you to answer my questions truthfully and comply with my dares," Draco said. "Now, go ahead, ask me first."

"Truth or dare?" Hermione asked.

"Truth."

Hermione paused, thinking.

"Why do you think we're fated? I mean, I'm flattered, but we've only had a few interactions in our life."

Draco's mouth twisted into tight lines. "Fuck, straight for my throat. I should have known you'd be ruthless." He gave a heavy sigh and stared at the trees, as if wondering how to say what he wanted to articulate. Whatever it was, it needed to be the complete truth. Maybe he was already regretting playing it with her."I was there the day my mother died. Did you know that?"

Hermione's heart dropped at what he referenced. She'd heard the story in bits and pieces over the years. Theo's parents had visited Malfoy Manor for a Beltane celebration. Titus had been busy with friends, and Theo had been sick. If not, they'd have both been there too.

Many of the guests had been in the main room, and her father somehow sent an explosive through the floo, bypassing the wards, something the purebloods thought impossible. It killed several purebloods, most of them women. The true war started that day— the moment when wizards realised the muggles could pose a threat.

"No," Hermione said, softly. "I didn't."

"Well, I'd been jumping off a chair, being naughty, despite my mother telling me to stop, when the device fell through. Everyone stared at it in confusion, but my mum knew something was wrong and threw up a Protego around me right before it exploded." He stopped his story for a moment, and she thought it might be to control the slight quiver in his voice. "Blood and body parts were everywhere. I— I saw— her body was mangled, but surprisingly, her face was untouched. I sat there and stared at her while wizards sifted through the chaos. At one point, I tried to grab her hand, but it— they were gone. Her arms, her legs, her lower body…" He frowned, his gaze empty, as if he was seeing it all again. "Nothing was left. " He glanced back into the trees, lips pulling into a frown. "I stayed there until my father found me."

How horrid. Her stomach lurched. Hermione wished she'd asked a different question.

"I'm sorry," she said, but he wasn't done.

"When your father died, I saw you staring at his body, and— and I knew then that you might be the only person in the whole world that might understand. The moment seared into me. I'll never forget your expression. I— fuck, Granger— I hated my father for doing that to you, because I knew how it felt. It's a terrible void inside you that will never go away."

He was right about that.

"Theo would understand."

"No." Draco shook his head. "He lost his parents, which is atrocious, but— he didn't see it happen. Not like we did. Don't you understand? The violence bonded us. Your father killed my mum, and my father killed your dad. It should be unforgivable, but things were meant to be forgiven between us. A balance in the universe. My mother's death had to have meant something, and that something was fate leading me to you."

The logic was distorted, but she thought she understood. They were both broken creatures, damaged at a young age, clinging to anything that felt like hope. At least she'd had Theo to heal with. Draco had no one except Lucius. She couldn't imagine the loneliness paired with the pain. Maybe that was why he'd been so adamant to be her friend, so focused on making a connection.

Maybe he didn't have any true friends at all.

Hermione didn't believe in fate, but she did believe in the ability to choose a destiny, and Draco had chosen her. The problem was, she didn't know if she should choose him.

"Is that the only reason?"

"Of course not. You also have magnificent tits."

She picked up a pillow and whacked him over the head with it. When she went to whack him a second time, he ripped it from her hands, giving a deep belly laugh.

"Oi, I meant a magnificent brain, Granger. No need to get violent."

His laughter felt contagious, dispelling the gravity of the situation. Before she could speak, the magic sizzled under her skin, signalling he told the whole truth, and it was his turn to ask her.

She sat back with apprehension.

"Truth or dare?" Draco asked.

Hermione decided to play it safe, wary of what he'd conjure up with a dare.

"Truth."

His grin was slow, one tooth at a time, as if he was hoping she'd say that.

"Do you find me attractive?"

Hermione withheld her annoyance, pursing her lips.

"Yes, you egotistical prat. What a waste of a question. Of course, you're attractive, you self-centered mandrake. You already knew that."

She threw another pillow at him, but she missed, much to his amusement.

"I just needed to make sure. I mean, I sort of guessed when you had your tongue in my mouth. It's just pleasant to hear."

Draco leaned back on his hands, having way too much fun with this.

"Truth or dare?" She asked, ire rising, unsure if she was having fun or not.

"Truth," he said.

She took a moment to think.

"Do you… do you find me attractive? I know you have some convoluted reason why we should be together, but you never mentioned if you wanted to be with me— in that way."

She'd never say it out loud, but a deep part of her wanted to find… something. Maybe love. Desire. Passion. One summer, she'd found an old romance novel that had been Theo's mother's, and she'd read it over and over, especially the part where they kissed and the boy confessed his undying love. The Trials already stole that hope from her. She understood the sacrifice now. She couldn't love a boy. Not until she knew who she'd be given to, and even then, she'd just have to hope they'd grow to care for each other. Hermione wasn't foolish enough to believe in happily ever after.

But she wanted it desperately.

Draco may just want her for a friend. Maybe he just wanted a muggleborn to breed. Or maybe he just wanted her because his father pushed her toward him.

Or—the most terrible conclusion— maybe he was lying to her about everything, only pursuing her for the status she'd bring him.

She needed to know the truth, so that she'd never doubt it.

"Am I attracted to you?" He asked, as if it was the most foolish question she'd ever asked. "Have you seen yourself? Does Titus forbid you mirrors? The Trials can go in the bin. Even without them, I'd make you mine." He leaned forward, looking serious. "Since the Yule ball, I haven't been able to think of anything else. My dreams are filled with you, imagining every part of your body. I can barely eat on the days I know you'll be close. If I could, I'd take you to my bed right now and show you exactly how attractive I think you are."

The magic sizzled, and Hermione knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted her despite circumstance. She attempted to control the way her hands trembled with the thought. How did people deal with this attraction? It made her want to disintegrate. Her heart beat in a dangerous fashion. It felt like flying, a terrible tumble of her stomach. It should be exhilarating, but it terrified her.

"Truth or dare?" He asked.

"Truth."

He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and then slowly released it with a pop. After a moment, he titled his head, and Hermione understood whatever he thought of would make her squirm.

"Have you ever masturbated to the thought of me?"

"Masturbate— what does that mean?"

"Let me rephrase." His grin almost turned evil. "Have you ever touched your cunt to the thought of me?"

She'd never heard it called a cunt, but she understood now what he'd asked.

Hermione's insides froze, everything inside her twisting. Her cheeks must match the Gryffindor colours.

The magic under the skin of her wrist zapped with each second that ticked by.

"Come on, Granger," Draco urged. "You need to answer before it starts to hurt."

It only took a few more warning zaps before she caved.

"Yes!" Hermione placed her head in her hands, unable to look at Draco in her mortification. When she finally regained her courage and looked at him, he wore a smug expression.

"More than once?" He asked.

"I don't have to answer another question."

"You're protesting too much, so I bet you have."

It had been far more than twice, but he'd need to rip that fact from her mind with legilimency before she'd ever tell him.

"Last round," Hermione said sharply, wanting to change the subject. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

That surprised her. He just gave her power over him. What did she want him to do? Honestly, she wanted him to be humiliated, just like she had been.

"Get naked," she said, and then amended. "Except your boxers."

"I'm not sure what you intended with this dare, but you're making this too easy. I'll undress for you anytime you want." He stood up and tugged off his shirt, revealing his pale chest. Though thin, his shoulders were broad with a trim waist, giving the impression he'd fill out in his shoulders like his handsome father. The muscles in his stomach and along his arms were defined, visible as he moved.

He was… breathtaking.

Hermione instantly knew she'd made a mistake with her dare. When Draco tugged at his trousers, pushing them down and discarding them, Hermione's mouth watered at the sight he presented. She'd meant to make him uncomfortable, but it only left her feverish.

"Now you have some new images to think of when you're rubbing one out." He winked while sitting down, carefree even while mostly naked.

Ugh, she wished she had more pillows to beat him with.

"Last one. Truth or dare, Granger?" He asked, giving a sideways smile.

Hermione feared any more questions from him. He'd already made her admit to masturbating to him, and she just knew the next one would be equally mortifying.

"Dare."

"I'd hoped you'd say that. After all, it's only fair." He gave a slow look up and down. "I dare you to keep all your clothes on… except your knickers. And then I want you to give them to me."

"Give them to you?" Hermione asked in shock.

The magic zapped her a few times while she stared at him dumbly before she complied with the demand. It was fair, she supposed, though she wasn't sure why he'd want her knickers.

Hermione stood up and then bent over a little to give herself some privacy, trying not to think about what she was doing. She hooked the edge of her knickers under her thumbs and tugged them down. Luckily, she'd worn a pretty pair today, red silk with lace trim.

When she pulled them off, she hesitated with handing them over, but the magic couldn't be denied, not unless she wanted to almost sneeze for a month.

Draco got up just enough to snag them. He stared at her knickers in his hand a moment, stroking his thumb over the place that had touched her cunt before throwing them near his trousers.

"You'll never see those again, I'm afraid."

Hermione sat down, making sure her dress thoroughly covered her bare private areas.

"What now?" She asked. "The game is over."

Draco got on his knees and started moving toward her. It took all her Gryffindor courage to stay in place.

"Now, I want to kiss you."

She wanted that too, but as he kneeled before her, the same doubt entered her that stopped her from exploring the previous time. He was nearly naked, and she didn't have any knickers. They both knew this could lead to something they shouldn't be doing.

He gently grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to her knees, so she faced him. His hand cradled her jaw as he dragged his thumb along her lips.

There were no words as he leaned forward, eyes on her. Just the distant trill of birds and buzz of insects typical of a forest. The silence awoke the nerves along her skin as his lips skimmed against her mouth.

Hermione let her hands rest on his chest. He choked out a desperate sound at the contact, as if he'd been starved for touch, and his mouth finally pressed hard into hers.

Maybe he was starving for touch. She wondered how many times he'd had physical affection in his life with only Lucius in the household.

His skin resembled porcelain—so pale it looked cold— so she was surprised by the burning warmth under her fingertips. He shivered as she stroked and explored the tight muscles on his chest.

Both his hands traced down the silhouette of her curves through her dress, going further and further down, until his fingertips rested on the edge of her dress pooling against the blanket she kneeled on.

His fingers slipped under the hem and touched her knees, causing her breath to hitch.

She'd never been a person to be self-conscious, but she'd also never had a situation where she needed to be. His destination was clear, fingers dragging up achingly slow along her outer thigh. Besides herself, no one else had ever touched her there.

"I–I'm not sure."

He stopped instantly like the last time.

"You're overthinking this again," he said. "I can almost see that big brain of yours twisting. Feel my heart, Granger." As if he'd given her a dare, her right hand moved over, resting over his ribcage. The organ thumped furiously under her fingers, showing this made him as nervous and excited as it did to her. "You see," he said, eyes half-closed, concentrating on her lips with his mercury stare. "We're the same."

"How many times have you done this?"

His fingers still stayed in the same spot, as if waiting for the command to move.

"Never," he admitted.

She wondered if she believed him. But the tremble of his fingers on her thighs couldn't be faked— a scorching desire.

Why shouldn't she discover something new? And just like the kiss, even if she was abnormal, how would he know? The thought soothed her fears, and she felt ready to proceed.

"This is just experimenting," she reminded him.

He gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Whatever you want to believe, Granger. We'll see what you think after I've learned what makes you cum."

She almost corrected him, but his fingers moved up again, distracting her. She began to pant as he reached her upper thigh and then her hips.

"Our bodies are made for this," he whispered, while edging to her center. Her whole body began to throb. Her core clenched as his fingers dipped down, finally reaching their destination, and she gave a soft whimper as he stroked. "Tell me exactly what you like."

He explored her gently. Much too gently, touching everywhere but where she wanted. After a few moments, it began to frustrate her. It occurred to her that if this was Draco's first time, maybe he didn't know what he was doing either. They'd need to teach each other everything.

She'd touched herself enough to know what she liked. What he was doing felt good, but it wasn't what was going to send her to bliss. She reached down and brought his thumb to her to the sensitive spot.

"Right here." She guided his finger in a firm circular motion. "Like this. It's where girls feel the most."

She thought he might get offended, but he nodded and brushed his thumb right where she asked, and her body rocked into the movement, chasing more.

Draco gave an audible groan at her reaction.

"That's your clit," he said.

"How do you know?"

"Blaise likes to sneak in muggle porn. Let's just say… I've studied it."

She didn't know what porn was, but when he circled her clit again, she stopped caring.

"More," she said, breathless.

"More what?"

"I'm not sure."

"I think I have an idea."

His finger slid down along her slit, embarrassingly wet, and then slowly dipped inside her.

"Oh, fuck," she said,feeling surprised. Her nails clenched into his bare skin, as he pushed it all the way inside her.

"You feel perfect."

She separated her legs on instinct, allowing him easier access. He went deeper than she expected. Before she could analyse it further, he slid in a second finger. It stretched her, almost feeling painful. She'd tried something similar one time with her own fingers, but she'd never gotten deep or tight like this. She whimpered against his lips, her nerves on fire from the sudden jolt of satisfaction.

"My clit," she begged. His thumb went back to what he'd been doing while he slowly pushed in and out. And then the palm of his hand rubbed against her, and she cried out.

"Just like that. Don't change anything." He studied her expressions as he moved, as if testing what would make her moan or buck her hips. Like he was strategizing how to conquer her body. He learned fast, following her instructions, both verbal and nonverbal, on what felt good.

And oh, did it feel good. Better than she thought it would. She lost her inhibitions as his fingers explored. An intense curiosity overcame her.

"Can I see it?" She begged.

"See what?"

"Yours."

"My cock?"

Was that what it was called? She nodded her head.

He grinned and shoved down the fabric just enough to pull it out. It stood erect, long and hard, with a slight curve and thicker than she thought it would be—though she'd had nothing to compare it to. It seemed large to her, but it could be below average for all she knew. She examined it in a lust-filled haze and let her curiosity guide her.

"Can I touch it?"

He glanced up to the clouds, as if praying to a deity.

"Can you touch it?" He scoffed. "I've thought of nothing else for years. Experiment as much as you want, and you don't have to be gentle."

She did what she wanted, letting her hand trail down the length. Draco kept taking jerky, sharp breaths, the muscles in his stomach bunching. When she wrapped her hand around it, he tilted his head to the sky again. "Bloody hell."

The knowledge that she was causing this reaction—Draco Malfoy unravelling under her touch— made her feel powerful.

"Up and down," he hissed between clenched teeth. "Like this." He wrapped his free hand around hers, showing her what he liked.

She tried what he said, practising different speeds and grips as he pushed his hips forward, grunting and mumbling curses.

He began to move his fingers inside her again, and she didn't even try to withhold her moan, urging him on. In tandem, they pleasured each other.

"The sounds you're making—" Draco's voice deepened. "They'll be my downfall. You've ruined me."

His free hand wrapped around her back, pressing them tight together, keeping her upright, giving just enough room to continue exploring each others' bodies.

The words, paired with him playing with her clit just right, fingers filling her, caused a sudden orgasm to crash over her—much stronger than she'd ever experienced by herself. He swallowed her satisfied moan with his lips, eyes open, as if in wonder, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done. After the wave crashed and ebbed, she wished to sink to the ground in exhaustion, but she wanted to see him finish too. She tugged on him again, like he'd taught her.

"I'm getting close," he said through clenched teeth. "It won't take much." It sounded like he was on the edge of pain, but she knew from experience it was just the precipice to pleasure. He slid his fingers out of her and placed them next to his lips.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Tasting you." He licked his fingers and groaned, closing his eyes as if savouring it. Leaning his head forward to rest against her shoulder blade, his mouth pressed to her neck as he kept praising her. "Just like that," he said. "I knew you'd be so good at this. Such a fucking swot. Always want to be the best."

Though she fought the label, she was a bit of a swot, always seeking praise from her tutors. Nothing made her more content. The praise Draco gave made desire spike through her again.

"I'm cumming," he warned, and gave a single violent jerk of his hips forward. Something came out from the head of his cock. The white substance landed on her dress, and she let go in surprise. She stared at it while he collected himself. Draco was panting. Red splotches decorated his chest, checks, and neck from both her touch and his arousal.

"Fuck, Granger, that was the best—"

"What is this?" Hermione asked. Ever the curious person, she dipped a finger in the product of his release and brought it up to look.

"It's cum," he said, looking disoriented, hands still trembling.

She assumed it was the stuff Katie had mentioned that made babies. Though, she didn't expect so much of it.

Hermione wasn't sure why she did it. Maybe it was the thought of Draco sucking on his fingers after they'd been inside her. He seemed to enjoy it, so she brought her finger to her mouth and touched her tongue to the cum. It tasted salty and a little strange, and she didn't know if she liked it or not. Still, she placed the finger in her mouth and sucked.

"That was so excruciatingly hot." He was panting harder, as if on the edge of control. "I promise you— by the end of the school year, I'll win the Trials, and it will be my cock instead of my fingers. You'll be mine."

"I think not."

He wrinkled his brow, and his whole body stilled, as if reentering reality.

"What the fuck do you mean?" His voice lowered.

"Titus is letting me wait until I'm twenty-one."

"Don't you want to come live with me? I thought— after graduation I'll be gifted the manor. My father said he'd move to another property to give us privacy."

Hermione huffed out a breath.

Of course, his father would give them privacy, but it wasn't out of goodwill. He wanted little Malfoy heirs.

Hermione hated that she wished to fall into something more than pleasure. Hated he was so fucking confident with a future filled with uncertainty. Emotion was a luxury she couldn't afford.

"Malfoy… you might not win. I'm saying this seriously."

He sneered, as if hating her refusal to believe he'd win, just as much as she hated his belief. He grabbed her face in a firm hold, pressing his fingers into her cheeks.

"You're going to be mine," he said, voice hard. "I'm not going to accept anything else."

"Well, you'll just have to wait, because I'm not doing the Trials yet."

"And why the fuck not?"

"I don't want a baby!"

The hand on her cheeks loosened, and he let her go.

She snapped her lips shut after, knowing that what she said was against all societal norms. She should want a baby, but she didn't.

Drac stared at her and then gave a single sharp laugh.

"Thank fuck! I don't want one either."

"Really?" Hermione asked in confusion. "But you want me to go through the Trials?"

"So I can be with you. Not so I can knock you up with a snotty-nosed, screaming child."

"That makes no sense. If we have sex, I'd get pregnant."

Draco scoffed in amusement.

"Not if we use contraceptives."

"Contraceptives?" Hermione asked. "What are those?"

The clearing turned silent as Draco seemed to process her question.

"They really do keep you sheltered." Draco shook his head. "Contraceptives prevent pregnancy. Granted they're illegal, but it's a hard law to enforce, and I don't like being told what to do in the first place."

Hermione's whole world shifted on its axis. She'd always equated sex with babies. No one ever told her differently. It was her divine purpose to help populate the wizarding world, a noble thing. She'd always felt bad for wishing for a different path in her life. As much as she desired sex and fantasized about it while lying in her sheets, she also feared it for its consequences.

She shuddered out a breath, feeling lighter than she had in a while. Draco just gave her an unexpected gift. Sex without pregnancy. Pleasure without pain.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course."

"But wouldn't the officials suspect something if I'm not pregnant after a year? I thought they investigated that stuff, and I doubt your father would be okay with it."

Draco paused, as if he hadn't thought of that. He stood up, accioing his clothes over.

"You're right." He sounded disappointed but resigned as he pulled on his trousers. "They'd investigate. As much as I hate waiting, starting the Trials when we're older might be a better option. Besides, there're plenty of things we can experiment with that won't result in pregnancy." He winked and reached down a hand and tugged her up, cleaning her dress of all evidence.

"That might be difficult if we're unable to see each other after Hogwarts. Theo only has one game left." She watched as Draco packed the picnic back into his bag.

"Don't worry about that," he said. "I'll figure out something."


They landed back on the Hogwarts astronomy tower. Compared to the last flight, this time he eschewed tricks, placing her in front of him and allowing his arm to circle around her waist, pressing them tight together while going at a slow pace. She laid her head on his shoulder, surrounded by the invisibility cloak.

He pulled to a gentle stop when they entered the room, holding her waist while they dismounted. She took off Harry's cloak and held it in her hands.

"Am I going to have to steal this too? Or will you do the right thing and give it back to Harry?"

"Being nice to Potter on purpose? I wouldn't hold your breath."

He talked a lot, but she held the cards.

"If you don't give it back, I'd be… angry."

"I like you angry. It makes me want to change your mind with my tongue." He looked at the way she propped a hand on her hip and gave an amused snort. "Fine, I'll give it back, but only so I can kiss you goodbye without any self-righteous rants."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but he tugged her into a fierce kiss, more aggressive than any he'd ever given her before. She didn't want to leave his embrace, wishing she could choose to do what she wanted. A sudden resentment toward Titus' rules bubbled up in her.

"What the fuck?" a male voice echoed around the tower.

They vaulted apart. Blaise Zabini stared at them with wide eyes, mouth open in shock, head peeking over the stairs.

"Zabini…" Draco warned in a low voice. "What are you doing up here?"

"Nott was being a shifty fucker, so I decided to investigate. I think the better question is what are you doing? Kissing a mudblood, and all alone. Titus Nott's house pet, at that! Now I understand why Nott tried to stop me. You've got some solid brass balls, Malfoy."

Draco took a threatening step toward him, fists clenched.

"If you dare say a single word to Titus, I'll make sure you never say another one again. Am I clear? Same for if you call her mudblood or house pet in my presence."

"You're starting to sound like a blood traitor."

A slash and flick of Draco's wand and Zabini lifted and slammed hard against a pole, sticking to it. Hermione flinched in surprise at the sudden violence. Malfoy stomped forward, placing his wand between the other boy's eyes.

"And you're starting to sound like a dead man. You think I wouldn't get away with murdering you? You're just an inconsequential fuckup with a whore for a mother. No one would care."

Hermione expected to see some reaction to the insults Draco just threw at him, and he must be in terrible pain from the hard throw of his body, but Zabini only gave a sly grin, like a spider watching its prey.

"You may get out of going to Azkaban, but they'd look into my death." He leaned over and spit out some blood. It coated his teeth with a crimson stain. She wondered if he'd bitten his tongue when he struck the pole. "It would be a shame if Titus discovered you feeling up his beloved pet. I'm not sure you'd survive the Butcher's anger— though there is another way. What will you give me for my silence?"

Draco transferred his wand to Zabini's throat and pressed hard.

"The ability to live another day. And if you believe I'm exaggerating, you might as well crawl into a grave and wait for me to finish the job. You can be a test subject for all of the dark spells in our family grimoire I've been learning. Or… maybe I should just let my father handle it. Why even bother getting my hands dirty when I can offload the task to someone else? I think he'd have fun with my request, especially when I tell him how you just threatened to undermine all his careful plans." She'd never heard Draco like this—violent, deadly, calm. She wondered if this was the version of himself he showed everyone else.

At the mention of his father, a flash of fear crossed Zabini's face.

"I was kidding," Blaise said, though he still grinned in an irritating way. "I'm not going to say a word. You know me."

"Yes, I fucking know you," Draco said. "So you don't fool me. Go on, Granger. Don't worry about Blaise." He still pointed his wand at Zabini, keeping him pinned to the pole. "I'll make sure he stays quiet, because he won't live long if he doesn't."

Hermione wished to tell Draco how much today meant to her. She'd never had so much fun. But instead, she walked down the astronomy tower stairs with shaky legs. Just like with the wands, Hermione had a horrible realisation of the consequences if she were caught. She'd treated their dates like a fun game, an exciting thrill, but it could crash down around her.

Remembering the way Titus backed her into the wall, hand gripping her shoulder, training furious, intelligent eyes on her, she no longer knew what he'd do if he discovered she not only kissed Draco Malfoy, but allowed his fingers inside her.