On Saturday, I did absolutely everything I could to keep busy. I caught up on laundry, ran errands, exercised, scrubbed baseboards, literally everything I could think of so that I had zero time to sit and think about Malfoy.

Around 5, I stopped in Diagon Alley to buy chocolate frogs. I ended up shopping around until most of the shops were closing up, and I'd spent quite a few more galleons than I ever planned.

Nonetheless, I felt a glass of Pinot Noir calling my name.

On the way to the Leaky Cauldron, I took a wrong turn and found myself in a newly developed business sector. It was sharp, expensive, and rudely reminiscent of a certain blonde I was trying not to think about.

I quickly shuffled by, averting my eyes and forcing myself to think of literally anything else.

When I was finally seated with a glass of wine in hand, my phone rang.

Harry Potter

My stomach dropped as I read the ID. I was trying my damnedest not to think about work right now, and, unfortunately, talking to Harry would mean I'd have to either lie or give up my control of this investigation. I wasn't willing to do either at the moment.

I silenced the call.

I felt a little guilty about it, but after a few more sips of Pinot, I didn't.

After two glasses, the sun had set, and I decided there was nothing left for me to do but go home. To my delight, my downtown flat in Muggle London was sparkling clean, thanks to all my efforts earlier in the day.

I was quite proud of myself; it'd been a very long time since I'd let myself disconnect. Work was my life, and I loved it, but this was good too. Who knew Draco Malfoy was the key to me allowing myself some work-life balance?

When I finally got in bed, my body tired from everything I'd done; there was little I could do to restrain my thoughts.

I bet with a blood curse, generations of Malfoys had collected a treasure trove of books about curses and curses-breaking. There was so much potential for learning and developing new and advanced techniques for my team.

I bet the journals have all sorts of information about tests and experiments that other experts tried.

Speculating about and imagining the Manor's library entertained me for a while, but eventually, my mind drifted to Malfoy. And, like a rogue wave, I felt a shift in my body.

My thighs clenched together longingly as I recalled our last encounter. His muscular arms wrapped around me, his spearmint breath on my lips.

I rolled over onto my stomach in an effort to collect myself, to no avail. I could still feel his warmth around me and his—

I knew I should redirect my mind to anyone but him, imagine any other person, but all I could see was him.

One hand trailed its way down my body until it teased my panty line, while the other touched my lips. I couldn't help but imagine what his kiss would have felt like, what he would have done with his tongue.

My fingers slide into my knickers and find sensitive flesh, so desperate for attention. It's been ages since I'd touched myself or let anyone touch me.

Remembering the dream I'd had the morning before, I massaged circles into my clit, making my toes curl.

He'd spread me open on the rug in front of the fireplace and was grinding his hard cock against my wet folds. The friction of his skin against mine was almost enough to make me cum, but I wanted more; I wanted him inside me.

"Fuck me, Draco," I moaned as I slid a finger inside my wanton folds, then another.

My breaths grew frantic, and a sheen of sweat glistened over my body as I fucked my digits, imagining they were his fingers, his cock, and his tongue.

I came and came again, moaning his name over and over into my pillow.

Draco