I want to exorcise the demons from your past, I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.
Setting: Post-War Ministry
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights of any of the characters who all belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not profiting from this whatsoever.
Put on Undisclosed Desires by Muse and enjoy this one-shot!
This story is cross-posted on my AO3 and Wattpad as well.
Undisclosed Desires
It was nearing midnight, and the Ministry was nearly empty. Draco Malfoy stalked through the silent corridors, a restless energy simmering just beneath his cool exterior. He'd spent the evening going over the finer details of his latest case, but his mind had kept straying—irritatingly—to her. No matter how many reports he filed, it was Hermione Granger's voice echoing in his mind, her gaze a reminder of the barriers he'd grown so used to hiding behind.
He didn't expect to find her here, let alone in the secluded archives where he'd come to escape his thoughts. But as he rounded the corner, he saw her: head bent over a desk, her curls catching in the lamplight as she poured over a stack of files. She looked exhausted yet steadfast, oblivious to his presence. He couldn't help himself, not tonight.
"It's late, Granger," he drawled, his voice low and unbidden.
Startled, she looked up, and their eyes met—intense, unguarded. She closed her file slowly, lips pursing as she considered him. "Malfoy," she said, a sigh in her tone. "You know, I'd say the same to you."
He smirked, leaning against the doorframe, eyes narrowing slightly. "Then I guess we're both a little masochistic, staying here longer than necessary."
Her eyes lingered on him, and something flickered there, a trace of a smile. But it disappeared, masked by the same cool distance he often used himself. He couldn't help but feel a tug of recognition. She had suffered, too. He could see it, a shadow in her eyes that mirrored his own. I know you've suffered, but I don't want you to hide.
She turned away from him, shuffling her papers as if she could dismiss him with the task. But he didn't move; instead, he closed the door behind him and stepped further into the room, daring her to look at him.
"Why do you do that?" he asked, his voice softer than he intended. "Pretend there's nothing beneath that mask of yours?"
She stilled, her hands pausing over the files. "Excuse me?" Her tone was defensive, but he could hear the crack in her voice, subtle as it was.
"It's cold," he continued, his eyes never leaving her. "It's cold and loveless, Granger. And I won't let you deny what's right there." He gestured toward her, and her hand faltered. She didn't pull away, though; she didn't run.
A strange thrill coursed through him as she finally met his gaze, the tension between them tightening like a wire stretched to its breaking point.
"Why do you care?" she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper. But the vulnerability in her eyes contradicted her words. She wanted to know. She wanted an answer.
Draco took another step forward, closing the distance between them. "Because I see you, Granger. I see the hurt, the anger—the things you try so hard to hide. And I want to make you feel pure again, even if you can't believe it's possible." His voice was low, earnest. "Trust me," he murmured, his hand brushing her arm. "You can be sure."
Her breath hitched, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. But he was only there, raw and unguarded in a way he hadn't been in years. She seemed to sense it, her expression softening, though she still held herself tensely.
"What are you really after, Malfoy?" she asked, her voice a mix of hesitation and defiance.
He tilted his head, studying her. "I want to reconcile the violence in your heart," he said softly. "The parts of you that have suffered. Because I know what that's like." He let out a quiet sigh, eyes fixed on her face. "And I want you to know that your beauty, the part of you everyone sees—it's not just a mask. There's more to it."
The vulnerability in his voice seemed to reach her, and she softened, her posture shifting as if a weight had lifted. Her walls wavered, and he saw her for the first time—truly, undeniably.
"And what about you, Malfoy?" she whispered, her gaze lingering on his face, as if searching for the truth hidden there.
He allowed himself a small, almost sad smile. "I want to exorcise the demons from your past, Granger. The ones that keep you locked away." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And I want to satisfy those desires you think you have to keep hidden."
A shiver ran through her, but she didn't retreat; instead, she lifted her chin, daring him. "You think you know me, do you?" she asked, her voice edged with both amusement and challenge. "I'm not some damsel who needs saving, Malfoy."
A smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, I know. You trick everyone around you, make them think you're wicked and divine." He moved even closer, his voice a murmur. "But you may be a sinner, Granger… yet your innocence is still mine."
Her eyes widened, and he felt the pull between them tighten, the invisible thread drawing them together. The room felt charged, the air thick with unspoken words, hidden desires.
"Then prove it," she whispered, her voice a challenge, her eyes blazing. "Please me, Malfoy. Show me how it's done."
His heart pounded, the thrill of her words sending a spark of adrenaline through him. He reached out, his hand resting on her cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering over hers. "I thought you'd never ask."
The first kiss was tentative, exploratory, but it quickly deepened, both of them unable to hold back the intensity that had simmered between them for so long. She responded eagerly, her hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer as though she could erase the space that had always separated them.
He trailed his hands under her blouse, along her back, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. She sighed against his mouth, and it was all the encouragement he needed. He wanted to feel her, to know her, to show her that he understood her in ways no one else ever could.
"Tease me," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with need. "You are the one."
Her lips curved into a slight smile, and he could feel the challenge in her kiss, the way she matched him, dared him, met him blow for blow. She was fierce, unyielding, and he adored every moment of it.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged, and met her eyes with a smouldering gaze. In one fluid motion, he lifted her, his hands gripping her thighs as he pressed her against the nearest row of archives. The metal shelves creaked softly under their weight, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room.
Draco felt her gasp against his lips, a sharp intake of breath that spurred him on. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, anchoring him to her, as if she couldn't bear to let go. He kissed a path along her jawline, then down the curve of her neck, each press of his lips deliberate and heated. Her skin was warm beneath his mouth, the slight taste of salt lingering on her as he trailed fire over her pulse point.
The air around them was thick with the mingling scents of old parchment, leather-bound books, and her perfume—a faint, intoxicating blend that clouded his thoughts and left him dizzy. Every inhale felt sharper, heavier, as though he couldn't get enough of her.
His fingers deftly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing the delicate lace of her bra. He paused, drinking in the sight of her, his eyes dark with want. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky and low. She shivered against him, and he wasn't sure if it was from the cool air kissing her exposed skin or the way his gaze lingered, unapologetic and hungry.
Her hands moved with a purpose, tangling into his hair, tugging him closer with a fierce urgency that mirrored his own. Their lips met again, the kiss no longer tentative but fevered, demanding. He felt her desperation in the way she held him, her body pressing against his, and it only fed the storm raging in his chest.
His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour. He revelled in the softness of her skin, the way she responded to his touch with little sighs and moans. Her nails scraped lightly against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine.
As they kissed, a stack of files teetered precariously on the edge of a nearby shelf. With a soft rustle, the papers cascaded to the floor, scattering around their feet. Neither of them noticed, too lost in the sensations of each other.
Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, tugging with a mix of haste and frustration. He relented, stepping back just enough to shrug off the offending garment and let it fall to the ground. Her hands were on him immediately, her fingers tracing over the contours of his chest, pausing to linger on the faint ridges of old scars. The way she touched him—curious yet reverent—sent a jolt of something unexpected through him, a raw vulnerability he hadn't anticipated. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if she could read the stories etched into his skin.
But then her touch shifted, igniting every nerve in its wake, and the thought dissolved, replaced by the overwhelming need to lose himself in her completely.
His lips traced a path along her collarbone, teeth grazing the delicate curve of her skin. She threw her head back, a low moan spilling from her lips and echoing in the quiet room. The sound reverberated between them, a tangible reminder of the tension that had simmered for so long, now spilling over.
Hands slid beneath the fabric of her skirt, fingers exploring the impossibly soft skin of her thighs. A shiver rippled through her, and the reaction sent a deep, visceral thrill through him. Her body arched closer, pressing against him in a silent plea that carried an unspoken trust. It unravelled something tightly wound within him, leaving him bare to the intensity of the moment.
The metal shelves behind her groaned faintly as her weight shifted, but the sound barely registered. Nothing else mattered—only the heat of her skin beneath his palms, the way her nails raked lightly across his shoulders, igniting every nerve in his body. She was fire against him, and he was willingly consumed.
"Tell me you want this," Draco whispered.
Draco watched as her fingers trembled while undoing his belt. Their eyes met, and he gave her a questioning look. She nodded slightly, and a genuine smile spread across Draco's face, his heart skipping at the trust she showed him.
As she worked on his trousers, Draco's hands traced up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. Her skin was like silk under his touch, causing goosebumps to rise. He revelled in the feel of her and teased her with delicate patterns drawn by his fingertips. When his hand reached the edge of her underwear, she gasped and Draco paused, searching her expression for permission. She bit her lip and nodded again, this time with more determination.
Slowly, he slipped his hand beneath the fabric, causing her to arch against him. Her breath hitched as Draco explored her clit with gentle confidence. Leaning in, he placed soft kisses along her collarbone while he eased two fingers inside her. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly, as he sat a steady pace of gliding in and out of her cunt with his fingers, while pressing down on her clit.
"Do you like this?" Draco whispered against her skin.
"Yes," she breathed. "Don't stop."
Feeling encouraged by her words, Draco increased the intensity and speed of his ministrations. Her quiet moans mixed with the sounds of rustling papers and creaking shelves.
Draco felt her trembling against him, her breath coming in short gasps. He could tell she was close. With exquisite timing, he slowly withdrew his fingers, eliciting a whimper of protest from her. Her eyes flew open, dark with desire and a hint of frustration.
"Patience," he murmured, his voice low and husky.
In one fluid motion, Draco reached down and pushed his trousers and briefs past his hips. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of his cock, fully aroused and ready. He positioned himself at her entrance, the heat of her core tantalising against his sensitive skin.
Their gazes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. Then, with a smooth thrust, he entered her, stretching her out until he was buried to the hilt. They both gasped at the sensation, the feeling of completeness overwhelming.
Draco began to move, setting a steady rhythm. The metal shelves creaked and swayed with each thrust, the sound of their fucking echoing in the otherwise silent archive. Papers continue to rustle and flutter to the ground, but were still unnoticed by the entwined couple.
He marvelled at the feeling of her wrapped around him, her warmth enveloping him completely. Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper with each movement. Draco buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her skin mingled with old parchment and ink.
Their bodies moved together in perfect synchronicity, as if they had been made for this moment. Draco could feel the tension building within him, a coiling heat in his core. But he held back, determined to bring her to the edge first.
He shifted slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. He knew he had found the perfect spot and continued his relentless pace, feeling her inner walls begin to flutter around him.
"Let go," he whispered in her ear, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "I've got you."
With a final, deep thrust, she came undone. She threw her head back, a cry of ecstasy escaping her lips as waves of pleasure washed over her. The sight of her in the throes of passion, combined with the feeling of her pulsing around him, pushed Draco over the edge. He followed her into bliss, his release intense and all-consuming.
For a moment, they stayed there, pressed against the archive shelves, their breathing heavy and synchronised. Draco rested his forehead against hers, their eyes meeting in a gaze filled with wonder. The desire between them was undeniable now, a shared secret they both understood, though neither dared to speak it aloud.
"Where does this leave us?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her hand still pressed against his chest as if afraid he'd slip away.
Draco looked down at her, his gaze softening. "That's up to you, Granger. But know this—I don't want you to hide anymore. I want to know all of you, the darkness, the beauty. Everything."
She held his gaze, the weight of his words sinking in, her face softening. And for the first time, she looked at him not as an adversary but as something more—an equal, a kindred soul, a partner in secrets they'd both kept hidden for too long.
The silence that followed was not empty, but full of a promise, a mutual understanding that transcended words. And as they stood there, entwined in the quiet, Draco knew he would never be able to look at her the same way again.
"I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart…"
Muse is my favourite band. Has been for the past 18 years. Undisclosed Desires is one of favourite songs from them, and it once it came out I just always felt it was a Dramione song.
So I have had this one-shot in the back of my head for a long, long time. Drafted it many times. And now it is finally ready to be shared with you!