Draco
Sleeping with Hermione has quickly become my favorite thing. Her body is soft and warm curled against me, her head is heavy on my chest, and her steady breaths lull me to my own sleep. Though it's not very long, it's welcomed. Battling against my alpha and suppressing my feelings for my omega drained me, and now that there's a tentative truce between myself and my biology, the exhaustion seeps into my bones.
When I wake up, I notice the sun inching along the floor beneath the heavy curtain, casting a dim light in the room. I squint in search of a clock, struggling to make out the time in the darkness. Quarter till noon. A small snuffle comes from Hermione and her arms tighten instinctively around my waist. Gently, I reach for the back of her neck, giving it a tender squeeze, while my thumb lightly presses against her bond gland. A contented sigh comes from her and her arms relax, comforted in her sleep.
I smile and do my second favorite thing, memorize my omega's face. Gazing at her, I delicately lift a hand up to trace the contour of her lips with my index finger before pressing a light kiss to her forehead. I've never felt this way for another woman, much less the only other omega I "courted". Hermione brings something out in me I barely recognize. Her confidence and adoration for me make me believe that I can be deemed good. If the Hermione Granger, Golden Trio member, Gryffindor Princess, War Hero, and the swottiest of witches, can see the good in me— why shouldn't I? I twirl a stray curl of hers around my finger and gently twist it around and around, mulling over my morality. There's also a mental peace beyond me and my alpha reconciling. I may not be the person I'd choose for her, but she, omega and herself, chooses me.
And of course, I'll always choose her. It's always been her. From the first day, I saw her sit up on the stool to be sorted. In the quiet whispers of my heart, I hoped she was sorted in Slytherin so I could get to know the bucktooth, frizzy-haired girl. The girl—the omega— who triggered my first rut is now the woman curled against me, trusting me as her alpha. My chest tightens and my throat grows thick. I bury my nose in her hair and blink away the wetness gathering in my eyes. The stillness of our early afternoon is welcomed.
Once I recover from my emotional reaction to realizing she's mine, I adjust ever so slightly so I'm leaning against her headboard with a few pillows behind me. She adjusts herself against me and settles once again. I can only imagine the exhaustion she's feeling from her painful heat. I'd need to wake her soon to feed her and make sure she's hydrated, but for now, she can rest. I summon a book from a bookshelf across her room and start to read, my free hand going between tracing mindless patterns on her back and twirling one of her curls around my finger.
A few hours pass and when I'm getting ready to wake her up, she stirs and presses her face into my side with a soft whine. I smile and close the almost-finished book, setting it aside to wrap my arms around her small, warm frame, tucking her face against my chest.
"Draco," she purrs out, nuzzling my chest. "Good morning, alpha," she looks up at me, sleep still evident in her eyes, and a shy smile on her lips.
I lean forward, kissing her lips lightly. "Morning, darling omega. How are you feeling?" I ask, smoothing her hair out of her face.
"Not as bad as I was," she rests her head back on my chest with a content sigh. "Thank you for helping me."
"You don't have to thank me-"
"I do! You were in Turks and Caicos with the Zabini family!" She interrupts, sitting up again. "If you need to go back, you can."
I gently guide her back against my chest again. "There's no place else I'd rather be," I soothe, rumbling gently as I hug her against me. "Are you hungry? I can have something—anything you want— brought here." The thought of leaving her even for a moment caused my alpha to stir in irritation. And after finding peace for myself, I'm not eager to be at war again.
"Whatever you want," she purrs and nuzzles into my chest. "Do you mean it? That there's no place else you'd rather be?" I can barely hear her whisper against my chest.
Hermione
Waking up, it feels like I've stepped into a heavenly dream. Nestled against Draco's chest, his fingers alternate between playing with my curls and tracing patterns on my back and it is a warm cocoon around us. When I finally stir and meet his gaze, he greets me with a loving kiss and affectionately calls me his darling omega. It truly feels like paradise. Our morning pillow talk transitions to my concern about him cutting short his tropical vacation. I never intended for him to cut his time with his mother short, but I can't help but feel guilty about it. However, he reassures me, saying there's no place he'd rather be. Does he really mean that? And because I do trust him, I ask.
"I do," he murmurs, his hand gliding down my hair before cupping my cheek to look up at him. "It wasn't exactly relaxing there... Knowing you were going to be in your heat left me feeling a bit... anxious. All I could think about was your safety, how your previous heat hurt, how..." He hesitates, his expression pensive. "I couldn't stop thinking about you and neither could my alpha. Being here is all I want. If you'll have me, I'll stay the rest of the holiday here with you." His gaze is unwavering.
As warmth floods my cheeks, I bury my face deeper into his chest, silently wanting him to stay with me. Is it truly pathetic, or am I simply craving the presence of my alpha? Or is he just craving my omega? His voice breaks through my thoughts, gentle and understanding. "You don't have to answer me on that - nor do you have to host me, Hermione. I just feel like… since you were so honest with me this morning, I want to be honest with you. I choose you, too," he murmurs into my hair, his words sending a wave of warmth through me. "I can't fight the way I feel about you anymore. And I don't want to."
I sit up, meeting his gaze, my omega urging me forward. "How do you feel about me, Draco?" I inquire, my hand finding its place on his chest, my nails lightly tracing on his chest. He places a hand on my bare thigh and sends a shiver through me. "Pick what you want to eat first, then I'll tell you how I feel," he responds, his voice low and steady.
A pang of anticipation courses through me, wishing he had chosen to show rather than tell. "I'd be fine with coffee and croissants. Maybe some more kisses." I shrug and watch as a faint blush comes to his cheeks.
"Mmhmm," his eyes move up and down my body slowly, a hunger darkening his eyes. "I can summon my house elf or I could go out myself–"
"You know how I feel about inherited house elves," I eye him carefully, preparing to tell him to have fun apparating.
"I know," he replies with a knowing smile, his cheeks tinted with a deeper blush. "My mother and I established proper wages and set hours for all our house-elves, even granted them holidays…" He shrugs, "I may or may not have drawn some inspiration from an organization I encountered in fourth year, perhaps you've heard of it, S.P.E.W.?"
A range of emotions swirl within me before settling on a mix of flattery and embarrassment. "Uh, sounds sort of familiar," I admit with a shake of my head, offering him a small smile. "When did you and your mother do that?"
"After it all ended. We emerged from it very... changed," he explains, his tone tinged with a hint of solemnity. "I feel like deep down she and I both knew all along. I know in fifth year, I was hoping it would all end soon because it was turning into an unavoidable reality from what was, uh, happening and forced house guests."
I nod in understanding. "It must have been incredibly difficult. No one chooses to grow up with prejudice forced to be ingrained in them. It's admirable that both you and your mother have seen through that prejudiced bullshit."
A fond look softens his features as he shrugs. "We should have seen through it and acted on that earlier," he admits, his fingers tracing over the jagged scar on my forearm. "Some things would have been entirely avoided."
"I know," I respond, reciprocating by tracing over the black ink on his forearm.
We sit there, our hands covering the trauma etched into our forearms, silence filling the room, though it speaks volumes. After a few moments of silence, his hand squeezes my forearm gently. "Okay pet, I'm going to get us some breakfast. I'll be back, alright?" He starts to shift to get out of our nest.
I reach out to stop his movement. "If your house elves are being taken care of… I wouldn't be opposed to you staying here with me," I tug him gently back towards the warmth of our nest.
"Agreed, but as much as I'd love to stay nestled in our nest with you, I think we should head downstairs. Let this room air out more of your heat and have a change of scenery." Draco holds his hand out to me. "C'mon. I know you have an excellent book collection that I'd like to get started on," he teases, moving the outstretched hand to my cheek.
I nuzzle his palm, purring softly. "Yes alpha," I press a kiss to his palm. Even with the heat of my need gone, a familiar warmth is growing in my stomach.
"As much as I appreciate the view of you in just my shirt, do you need a sweater? Maybe some shorts?" he offers, stepping out of the nest.
I nod slightly and gesture towards the closet. "It's charmed. Take that door, first set of drawers on your right, top one. Black, please."
He disappears behind the closet door briefly, then returns, cheeks tinged with red. "Did you want anything else? Just these?" he asks, holding up a lacy pair of boy shorts.
"Yes, those. Thank you," I reply, reaching out for lacy panties. His eyes remain fixed on mine as he hands them over. "Thank you," I add with a slight shrug, slipping them on as he turns away.
"Sofa?" he suggests, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me out of the room, a book resting on my thighs. A Tale of Two Cities. "Are you a fan of Dickens?" I inquire, watching him as he carries me downstairs.
"He's one of the authors we're studying in Muggle Studies," he replies casually, lowering me onto the sofa with care.
"Did you enjoy it?" I inquire, thumbing through the pages gently, then glancing up to see him drawing the curtains and starting a fire in the fireplace.
"It's quite an interesting read," he smiles, joining me on the sofa and draping a throw over the two of us.
Nestled against his side, I jump at the sudden pop. His house elf appears, hands clasped together. Draco introduces me to the peculiarly attired elf, then politely requests coffee and croissants from his favorite bakery. With another pop, the elf disappears, leaving Draco and me in cozy solitude once more.
"How do you think you made your heat worse?" He murmurs, trailing his fingers along my arm. I can't tell if he forgot about my question or if he is still contemplating it. Instead of pressing the matter further, I answer his question.
Draco
She sighs, resting her head against my shoulder. "Well… Ginny gave me some of her memories for Christmas… I noticed this weird warping in her memories." Her eyes close and she frowns. "But it wasn't her memory - it was what 'Tom Riddle' was showing her." A hand comes up and she pinches the bridge of her nose. "I had a nightmare that night that dark magic was swallowing me whole… and that's what it was. The warping." She goes on to share that she tried to manipulate the dark magic to reveal the truth but tampering with the dark magic jump-started her heat. "The answer to our questions is in whatever Voldemort is trying to cover up in those memories."
Nodding, I contemplate what she's shared, feeling agitated with her decision to delve into dark magic unprepared and alone. The silence is comforting as I try to sort out my thoughts. I glance at her observing her thoughtful gaze fixed upon me. As I'm about to speak, there's a pop, signaling Elmore's return. She jumps at the sudden noise echoing around the quiet room. He's not visible but a tray floats in and rests on the coffee table.
"Thank you," we chime simultaneously, drawing a lovely blush to Hermione's cheeks.
"And thank you," she says with a kiss on my cheek
"Anytime," I rumble in return and lean in towards her to brush my lips against hers in a gentle kiss. It isn't enough, I need more. Ignoring my thoughts, I relax into the soft cushions of the sofa next to my omega and sip on my coffee, watching her over my steaming cup.
Her blush darkens and her teeth dig into her plump bottom lip.
I click my tongue softly and shift, reaching up to cup her face to gently coax her bottom lip away from her straight teeth with my thumb. As she lets go, I drag the pad of my thumb along the bitten flesh before trailing it down to her chin. Lightly gripping her chin, I let my hand trace down either side of her jawbone, slowly moving to her neck. Her arousal is thick in the air and I hear a heavy swallow come from her. My dick jumps in my joggers and I ignore it. Wrapping my hand around her throat, I massage my thumb into her bonding gland. Her eyes grow heavy and she's starting to squirm, still holding her croissant and coffee. "Don't bite, hm?"
Her lashes flutter shut as she nods, a loud purring coming from her. "Yes, alpha," she sighs out, her voice carrying a tone of submission and contentment.
A hum of approval escapes me, murmuring 'good girl' under my breath. She shivers in pleasure, and reluctantly, I release her warm neck.
Hermione rewards me with a sweet smile, but as the haze clears from her eyes, she focuses on me intently. "Can we talk about something?" she asks, reaching for a croissant and taking a bite.
A pit forms in my stomach as I nod once, feigning nonchalance as I lean in.
She swallows and takes a sip of her coffee before apologizing, noticing my incredulous look as she procrastinates what she has brought up. She sets her breakfast aside and takes a breath. "We both admitted we liked each other last night, and I want you to know I truly meant it. I'd like this," she gestures between us, "to maybe be something we both agree on?" My eyes widen at her poorly disguised 'what are we?' question, and as she notices my reaction, she continues. "I understand if this is something you'd not want to take public but I would like to know how you'd feel about us being… just us, exclusive?"
I watch her as she avoids meeting my gaze, her eyes fixed on the dancing flames. The vulnerability she is sharing with me makes me want to throw myself down and kneel at her feet, pleading for the privilege of being hers.
Instead of leaning into my wants, I let an amused smirk play on my lips. "Now, Granger, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" Her head snaps to me, eyes narrowed in a glare. Suppressing a chuckle, I lean in to kiss her forehead, but she pulls away, her hand firm against my chest.
"I refuse to be just another alpha's—"
"I'm not 'just another alpha,' though, right?" I interject, my voice low, a brow arched. "I believe I'm your alpha, if you'll have me, of course." I raise my chin, meeting her gaze. "And if you do, I'd say we would also be romantic partners." The peacefulness of the room has dissolved into tension. "And," I add, covering her hand on my chest, "that would make me your boyfriend."
Hermione
Maybe this isn't the best time to have this conversation? My omega and I are interchangeable in being in control because of the calm our alpha provides. His large, pale hand wrapped around my through in a firm but delicate grasp. I look away from him, trying to gather my thoughts.
"Is that something you want?" I finally ask, staring at the flames again.
"Are you asking if I want all of you?" He questions, taking my hand from his chest and placing it in his lap, holding it with both of his.
"I just—"
"I like you more than biology." he clarifies. "I meant what I said last night too. I've picked who I want and who my alpha wants," his words echo mine, as he draws me into his embrace where I find solace. "So... you're mine, then? My omega? My girlfriend?"
Labeling ourselves feels trivial, especially with the depth of emotion I feel for him. I nestle against his chest, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders at his confirmation of wanting all of me. "Yes," I affirm, wrapping him in my arms. Now I feel weightless. "Is this something we should keep to ourselves?" I inquire hesitantly, reluctant to conceal our relationship yet mindful of his preferences.
No," he replies firmly, his embrace enveloping me. Soft purrs escape me in acknowledgment, and he gently massages my back in response. We remain quiet until he reminds me that I need to eat. As we sit up and enjoy our breakfast, we steal shy glances and share kisses between conversations and short naps.
Crookshanks makes his presence known, meowing in and out of the room, adding to the cozy atmosphere. Time slips away as we bask in each other's company, the afternoon passing in a warm haze of affection. Before we realize it, the sun dips low in the sky, casting a golden glow over our tranquil evening.
"Dinner then bed?" he suggests, getting up and heading towards the kitchen.
"Please!" I call after him, snuggling deeper into the sofa.
Draco's culinary skills come as a surprise, given his background, yet he manages to craft a delicious meal for dinner. We engage in quiet conversation, covering a range of topics, including my family and upbringing as a Muggle before I manifested as a witch.
Once he enchants the kitchen to clean itself, Draco picks me up and carries me up the stairs.
"Draco?" I murmur against his ear, nibbling on his lobe lightly.
A throaty noise escapes him, and his hold on me tightens. "Hermione?" I feel the warmth of his breath against my skin as he responds.
"How are we feeling about another bath?" I whisper, dipping my head down to his neck and planting wet kisses on the flushed skin. "As tempting as that sounds, I have a better idea before we take a nice soak," he hums, kicking my door shut behind him. He lays me down on my bed, leaning over me, his white-blonde hair falling into his face as he studies me with a lustful gaze.
"Spread your legs, pet."